Chapter 7 - The Altars of Pride
Saturday afternoon arrived under a bright, cloudless blue sky.
The Historic Savannah Country Club was a magnificent antebellum estate, featuring towering white marble pillars, manicured oak trees draped in Spanish moss, and a grand ballroom overlooking the river.
Over three hundred high-society guests had gathered in the main pavilion. Despite the massive scandal surrounding Arthur, many of the city's wealthiest elites had still shown up—some out of loyalty to the Bennett business name, but most out of a dark curiosity to see if the wedding would actually take place.
Arthur stood near the altar beneath a canopy of white roses. He looked handsome in a white tuxedo, though his face was visibly pale, and dark circles shadowed his eyes. Beside him stood his best man, looking nervously at the crowd.
At the back of the pavilion, Vanessa stepped onto the white carpet wearing an extravagant $30,000 lace wedding gown, holding a bouquet of white orchids. The string quartet began to play the traditional wedding march.
Vanessa began her slow walk down the aisle, a triumphant, arrogant smile plastered across her face. She had won. She was marrying into wealth, taking over Rose’s legacy, and securing her place in Savannah society.
She took ten steps down the aisle.
Then, the heavy wooden doors at the back of the pavilion slammed open.
The music stopped abruptly. The string quartet froze.
Every head in the audience turned toward the entrance.
I walked into the ballroom wearing my dark funeral suit. Standing on my right was Thomas Sterling, carrying a black leather legal briefcase.
And walking beside us, holding each other's hands, were Lucy, Rachel, and April.
Lucy wore a simple dark blue dress. In her hands, she carried the purple velvet bag.
A collective gasp echoed through the three hundred guests.
Arthur’s face turned from pale to an ugly, mottled purple. He stepped away from the priest, marching toward the center of the altar, his voice echoing furiously across the pavilion.
"What is the meaning of this?!" Arthur roared, pointing a finger at me. "Security! Get this crazy old man and these kids out of here! This is a private event!"
Two heavy security guards stepped toward us, but Thomas Sterling immediately pulled a certified court document from his briefcase and held it up.
"Touch us, and you will be arrested for interfering with an active federal law enforcement operation!" Thomas announced, his voice echoing clearly across the ballroom.
Vanessa stopped dead in her tracks in the middle of the aisle, her face contorting with rage. "Arthur! Call the police! They are ruining our wedding!"
"The police are already here, Vanessa," I said, pointing toward the back entrance.
Four unmarked black sedans pulled up outside the glass doors. Eight uniformed federal agents from the IRS Criminal Investigation Division and the Georgia State Bureau of Investigation stepped out, taking positions around the perimeter of the ballroom.
The room plunged into absolute, terrified silence.
Arthur backed up against the altar, his confidence evaporating in an instant. "Thomas... what is this? What are you doing?"
I took three steps forward, stopping at the head of the aisle. I looked at Arthur, then at Vanessa, and finally at the crowd of wealthy guests who were watching the scene with wide, shocked eyes.
"Arthur," I said, my voice quiet but carrying to every corner of the room. "You thought Rose died without leaving a word. You thought you could abandon her children, steal her business, and marry your mistress on her grave."
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Lucy stepped forward beside me. She reached into the purple velvet bag, pulled out the thick white envelope sealed with red wax, and handed it to Thomas.
"It's time to open the envelope," Lucy said.
