CHAPTER EIGHTY FIVE – IN COMES THE BRIDE

Slowly, majestically, the doors swung open. A collective gasp rose from the assembled guests as Irina appeared, a vision in white. Her gown was a masterpiece of silk and lace, its long train trailing behind her like a river of snow. A delicate veil obscured her face, but Rebecca could see the triumphant smile curving her lips. As Irina began her slow procession down the aisle, Rebecca's gaze flicked back to Luca. For just a moment, she saw his composure slip, a flicker of something – pain? anger? resignation? – crossing his face before he schooled his features back into a neutral expression. The tension in the cathedral was palpable as Irina drew nearer to the altar. Rebecca found herself holding her breath, her heart pounding in her chest. What would happen next? Would Luca go through with the ceremony, or would he finally confront Irina in front of everyone? As Irina reached the altar and turned to face Luca, time seemed to stand still. The priest began to speak, his words echoing