Chapter 81 The Wedding That Felt Like A Funeral

The music swelled, a haunting melody that mocked the moment. Genevieve stood at the grand cathedral’s entrance, her fingers clutching the silk bouquet as if it were the only thing anchoring her to reality. The towering stained-glass windows cast fractured light across the marble aisle, illuminating the faces of the guests who whispered behind their gloved hands. She inhaled sharply, forcing her trembling legs to move. One step. Another. The weight of her gown dragged behind her, its intricate lace trailing like chains. She felt caged, a bird with clipped wings, marching toward a fate she had never chosen.