Chapter 2 - THE BRIDE'S AWAKENING
Isabella Whitmore was raised to be a politician’s perfect weapon, but she was not a fool. The diamond-encrusted bouquet trembled in her hands as she looked from the three identical boys back to Michael. Her fiancé’s silence was a confession written in sweat. "Michael," Isabella’s voice cut through the garden’s dead silence like a scalpel. "Tell me those aren't yours." Michael swallowed hard, his eyes darting toward the balcony where his mother stood frozen. He couldn't speak. He never could when it mattered. I didn't wait for his pathetic stammering. I walked forward, my boys flanking me like a royal guard. "They are Sterling by blood, Isabella," I said smoothly, my voice carrying over the manicured lawns. "But they are Bennett by raising. I didn't come to stop your wedding. I came to let Victoria see exactly what she threw away."
