had spent years in the shadows, living as a ghost, gathering evidence, rebuilding in secret, and waiting for the perfect moment.
Today was that moment.
Rafe stepped forward, shedding the filthy jacket like it was nothing. Underneath, though still dirty, his posture was that of a king.
“Julian Reyes,” he said, voice carrying to every corner of the cathedral, “you wanted a show. Let’s give them one.”
He pulled out his phone and tapped once. Every screen in the cathedral—phones, the large monitors set up for the ceremony, even the
