Chapter 9 - The Stolen Vows
Vanessa slowly pushed herself up from the floor, leaning heavily against the altar railing. The heavy, gold-threaded gown was rumpled, smeared with mascara and dirt from the platform. She looked at me, her eyes hollow, stripped of every ounce of pride she had ever possessed.
“Clara...” she croaked out, her voice barely audible. “What am I going to do? The debt... six million dollars... they’ll take everything I have. They’ll take my apartment. They’ll put me in prison.”
I looked at my sister. The sister who had laughed when she took my dress. The sister who had tried to humiliate me before three hundred people.
“You’ll have to work, Vanessa,” I said evenly. “Just like I did. For ten years, you lived on Eleanor’s handouts while I worked eighteen-hour shifts in garment basements to build my own line. You wanted a shortcut to my life. Now you have to pay the toll.”
Julian stepped forward then, closing the distance between us. He reached out and gently took my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine. Then he turned to Vanessa.
“And there’s one more thing you should know, Vanessa,” Julian said, his voice flat and merciless.
Vanessa looked up, a faint, desperate flicker of hope in her eyes. “Julian...?”
“Did you really think I didn’t know you came to my penthouse suite at midnight yesterday?” Julian asked.
The crowd stirred again. Vanessa’s face drained of what little color it had regained.
“You came to my room wearing that very dress,” Julian continued, loud enough for every guest to hear. “You told me Clara had gotten cold feet. You told me she was planning to abandon me at the altar, and you offered to take her place in bed and in church to save my pride.”
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Gasps erupted from the Montgomery family section. Julian’s mother shook her head in utter revulsion.
“I didn't throw you out immediately only because Clara asked me to let you play your hand to the end,” Julian said coldly. “You didn't just steal a gown, Vanessa. You tried to steal a life that wasn't yours. And you failed completely.”
