THE FIRST LIE
954 Words
Chapter 3
THE FIRST LIE
The cathedral had emptied.
The unease hadn't.
Police officers moved through shattered crystal and overturned chairs, their radios crackling beneath the vaulted ceiling.
Forensic photographers documented every splinter of glass while reporters shouted unanswered questions from behind the barricades outside.
Attempted murder.
The words drifted through the corridors in frightened whispers.
Iris sat alone in a private waiting room adjoining the cathedral.
She was still wearing her wedding dress.
Someone had removed the veil. A medic had cleaned the thin cut on her wrist and covered it with a strip of white tape, but she couldn't remember agreeing to any of it.
All she could hear was the voice from the phone.
You're next, Iris.
Not Mrs. Laurent.
Not Miss Bennett.
Just...
Iris.
Whoever had called knew her.
Her fingers tightened around her phone until her knuckles whitened.
A soft knock interrupted the silence.
She didn't answer.
The door opened anyway.
Cassian Laurent stepped inside.
His suit jacket was gone, leaving only a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms. Fresh bandages wrapped one hand, but if the wound hurt, he gave no sign of it.
He closed the door quietly.
Neither of them spoke.
The silence stretched.
Heavy.
Awkward.
"You shouldn't be here," Iris said at last.
"I know."
She looked up, surprised.
"Then why are you?"
Cassian walked to the rain-speckled window overlooking the cathedral entrance. Flashing police lights painted brief streaks of blue across the glass.
"The press is already writing tomorrow's headlines."
His voice was calm.
Controlled.
"'Billionaire Wedding Ends in Blood.'"
She let out a bitter laugh.
"It nearly ended in death."
"It was supposed to."
The certainty in his answer snapped something inside her.
She stood so abruptly the chair scraped across the floor.
"There."
She pointed at him.
"You did it again."
Cassian turned.
"What?"
"That."
She took another step.
"You keep saying these things like you already know what happened."
"I know enough."
"No." Her voice rose despite herself.
"You know more than you're telling me."
His expression remained unreadable.
She hated that.
Someone had tried to kill them.
Someone had threatened her.
Yet he still looked as though they were discussing quarterly profits.
"Stop answering half the question."
"Iris—"
"No."
She cut him off.
"Someone tried to murder us."
Her voice cracked.
"My father nearly watched me die."
She swallowed hard, blinking away tears she refused to let fall.
"And somehow you're standing there looking..." She searched for the word.
"...prepared."
For the first time, Cassian's face softened.
Only slightly.
"I wasn't prepared."
"No?"
"I was suspicious."
"What's the difference?"
"If you're prepared..."
He looked out at the rain again.
"...you're surprised when you're wrong."
She frowned.
"And if you're suspicious?"
"You assume the worst."
The answer sent a chill through her.
"You expected someone to attack your wedding."
"I expected someone to make a move."
"You didn't tell anyone?"
"I had nothing to prove it."
"So you gambled with people's lives?"
His jaw tightened.
"I gambled with my own."
Silence crashed between them.
For the first time since meeting him, Iris wasn't
sure whether she wanted to slap him...
...or understand him.
Another knock broke the moment.
This one was sharp.
Urgent.
Detective Marcus Hale entered carrying a transparent evidence bag.
He didn't waste time with greetings.
"I've got something."
He placed the bag on the table.
Inside lay the broken section of chain.
Marcus studied it before speaking.
"I've investigated building collapses."
He tapped the twisted metal with a gloved finger.
"They rust."
Another tap.
"They crack."
His eyes lifted to theirs.
"They don't look like this."
He pointed to a series of clean grooves running through the steel.
"Whoever did this wasn't angry."
Iris frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"Angry people rush."
Marcus folded his arms.
"This took patience."
His voice remained steady.
"They weakened the chain days before the wedding."
The realization settled over the room like ice.
"This wasn't sabotage."
Marcus shook his head.
"It was scheduling."
Cassian's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.
Marcus noticed.
"So."
The detective looked directly at him.
"Let's talk about your security."
Cassian met his gaze.
"What about it?"
"Thirty seconds after the chandelier fell..."
Marcus clasped his hands behind his back.
"...you ordered every exit sealed."
"I did."
"Most grooms would've checked on their bride."
"I knew the attacker might still be inside."
Marcus held his gaze for several long seconds.
"That's an interesting instinct."
"It kept people from leaving."
"It also kept your attacker from escaping."
Cassian said nothing.
Marcus nodded slowly.
"You've dealt with something like this before."
It wasn't a question.
Before Cassian could answer—
The door burst open.
"Sir!"
One of Cassian's security officers stood in the doorway, breathing hard.
"We found a vehicle in the underground garage."
Cassian frowned.
"And?"
"It belongs to the old man."
Marcus straightened immediately.
"What about it?"
The guard swallowed.
"The driver's seat..."
His face paled.
"...is covered in blood."
Silence.
Marcus was already moving.
"Show me."
The detective strode from the room without another word.
Cassian followed.
Iris took one step after them.
"Stay here."
She stopped.
Then laughed.
The sound was tired.
"You've known me for less than an hour."
Cassian looked back.
"And?"
"What makes you think I'll suddenly start taking orders from you?"
A flicker of something—almost amusement—crossed his face.
"I don't."
He opened the door.
"I was hoping."
That caught her off guard.
By the time she recovered—
He was already gone.
Iris grabbed the skirt of her wedding dress and hurried after him.
"If you're walking into danger..."
She caught up beside him.
"...you're going to have to get used to company."
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