Ethan turned his gaze toward Kendra Vance and Beatrice Sterling, who were backing toward the choir pews:
“And last night, while my bride was sleeping, you planned to defile her mother’s wedding gown and steal the Mercer family heirloom rings.”
Ethan reached out with his left hand, caught Vanessa’s beaded evening bag by the strap, and dumped its contents onto the communion table:
*CLATTER.*
Out spilled a small silver jewelry box containing a pair of cheap, off-market gold bands, alongside a folded itinerary stamped with the corporate logo of **The Valkyrie Trust of Zurich**!
Vanessa stumbled backward, her heels catching on the hem of her gown:
“Ethan… please! Look at me! The Valkyrie Trust was offering your firm forty million dollars in bridge financing! Your shipping lines were over-leveraged! I did it for you! I did it to save your company!”
“My company was never in debt, Vanessa,” Ethan answered, his lips parting in a cold, razor-thin smile:
