“You…” Julian stammered, recognition dawning. “No. Impossible. You’re dead. I made sure—”
Lando—whose real name the world would soon remember—was Rafael “Rafe” Montalban, the only son of the late shipping magnate Don Eduardo Montalban. Five years ago, Julian had orchestrated a yacht “accident” to eliminate the Montalban heir who stood in the way of his hostile takeover of their shipping empire. Rafe had survived, but barely. He 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 live broadcast—suddenly switched from the wedding feed to a devastating presentation.
Documents. Bank records. Voice recordings. Video evidence.
