Julian frowned. “What are you doing?”

I looked at him. Then at Camille. Then at the guests sitting closest to the front—lawyers, investors, people who suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

“Fixing the guest list,” I said.

Then I made one call.

“Mr. Vale,” I said calmly, “please send everyone in.”

At first, nothing happened.

Then headlights appeared outside the chapel windows.

One SUV.

Then another.

Then dozens more.

Forty-seven in total.

By the time the first door opened, Julian’s face had gone pale. For the first time, he looked uncertain—like he realized this moment no longer belonged to him.

Guests turned in their seats. Murmurs spread. Even Camille lost her smirk.

Julian stepped toward me, voice low. “What did you do?”

“I made sure the truth had witnesses,” I replied.