Chapter 6 - The Groom’s Sudden Realization: Julian Cross Learns He Was Marrying a Monster
Julian Cross, the billionaire heir to the Cross shipping empire, stood at the center of the altar, looking between the two sisters. His hands, adorned with custom platinum cufflinks, were shaking slightly.
Julian had been my fiancé before the fire.
When the news of my death had broken five years ago, Julian had publicly grieved for two years. But high-society alliances are relentless beasts; under the pressure of his father and Douglas Mercer, the merger between Cross Maritime and Mercer Holdings required a marriage. Juliette had stepped into the vacuum, consoling him, sliding into his life, and eventually slipping the diamond engagement ring that was once meant for me onto her own finger.
"Julian," Juliette pleaded, her voice dropping into the sweet, manipulative purr she had perfected over years of deception. She grabbed his arm, her eyes wide with desperate tears. "Julian, darling, look at me. You love me. We built this together. Marcus Vance is a disgraced cop trying to ruin our wedding day. This woman is an imposter—a blackmailer using plastic surgery to mimic Caroline!"
Julian looked at Juliette's hand on his arm. Then he slowly, deliberately, reached out and peeled her fingers off his sleeve, one by one.
"An imposter?" Julian whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of grief and disgust. "Juliette, five years ago, the night before the fire, Caroline and I had an argument in the library at Blackwood."
Juliette froze.
"We argued about whether to hold the reception in Newport or New York," Julian continued, turning to look directly at me. "She threw her favorite silver fountain pen at me, and it chipped the base of the grandfather clock. She told me that if I ever tried to micromanage her life, she’d make me wear a clown suit to the rehearsal dinner."
Julian stopped, his eyes searching mine. "Caroline... what was the inscription inside the pen?"
I didn't hesitate for a single heartbeat.
"To my favorite storm, " I quoted, the memory bringing a bittersweet pang to my chest. "May you never find a quiet harbor. It was a custom Montblanc pen our mother bought in Paris when I graduated from Wharton."
A heavy tear broke from Julian’s eye and rolled down his cheek. He stumbled backward, covering his mouth as the reality crushed him.
"It’s you," Julian breathed. "It’s really you."
He turned back to Juliette, his expression transforming into cold, absolute fury. "You told me you sat with her while she died in the hospital. You told me her last words were for me to take care of you. You swore on your mother’s soul that Caroline wanted us to be together!"
"Julian, please!" Juliette cried, dropping to her knees, her white satin gown spilling over the altar steps like spilled milk. "I did it for us! I did it to save the merger! You would have lost Cross Maritime if you didn't secure the Mercer shares!"
"I don't care about the shares!" Julian roared, tearing his boutonniere from his lapel and hurling it onto the floor. "You are a monster! You tried to burn your own sister alive, and then you slept in my bed for three years while she was suffering in a basement!"
Julian ripped the fifty-carat emerald necklace—the Mercer family heirloom—straight from Juliette’s neck. The delicate gold clasp snapped, scattering tiny seed pearls across the altar floor.
He walked past her, ignoring her desperate screams, and walked down the steps toward me.
With trembling hands, Julian held out the emerald necklace. "Caroline... forgive me. Dear God, please forgive me."
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I looked at the emeralds—the jewels my mother had worn on the day she married our father. Then I looked into Julian’s eyes.
"The necklace belongs to the estate, Julian," I said calmly. "And as of today, the Mercer estate is entering federal receivership."
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