Chapter 224

Aiden

“Damn it, William… answer the fucking phone!” I shouted again, pacing the room like an animal trapped in a cage. “Why won’t anyone answer the goddamn phone?”

Micah watched me from the bed, eyebrows raised. “Maybe because… I don’t know… THEY ARE GETTING MARRIED?”

I glared at him and then shook my head wildly, chest tightening. “I can’t wait. I’m not sitting here while something terrible is about to happen.”

I tried the church mainline again.

No answer.

I tried William.

Straight to voicemail.

I tried Noah again.

Nothing.

Micah sat forward, concerned now. “Aiden. Aiden—look at me. Breathe.”

But my heart was thundering. The dots Micah had sparked in my mind were forming a shape I didn’t want to see. A shape that looked too much like the truth.

“I can’t wait. I’m not sitting here while something terrible is about to happen.” I said, grabbing my jacket. “I’m going. The cathedral they're at is ten minutes away…”

“Aiden—!” Micah tried to stand, winced, and fell back onto the bed.

“I’ll text you,” I threw over my shoulder. “Stay safe.”

He nodded helplessly. “Just… don’t get yourself killed, okay?”

“Not today,” I muttered, and vanished.

I didn’t wait for the elevator—I stormed down the stairs, took them three at a time, burst through the lobby, ignoring the nurse shouting for me to slow down, and slammed into my car, hands shaking so badly I almost dropped the keys.

I tried William one more time.

Nothing.

Music exploded from the speakers, random playlist shuffle. Too loud. Too chaotic. It grated against my nerves like sandpaper. I stabbed the power button and cut it off until there was nothing but the roar of the engine and my own ragged breathing.

My hands were trembling on the wheel.

I could still hear Noah’s voice. The soft cracks between words. The tears he tried to hide.

I love you.

I love you, too.

And that was the moment something inside me snapped.

I wasn’t losing him today.

I wasn’t letting Lexie get hurt.

I wasn’t standing still while something irreversible unfolded under cathedral lights.

I hit the highway like a demon.

Cars blurred around me, my speedometer climbing. Every small vibration of the steering wheel made me want to scream. I talked to myself under my breath, barely coherent words as the world streaked by.

“Hold on, Noah, hold on, Lex… fucking hold on…”

Red lights, green lights—none of it was real. None of it mattered. I just needed to get there.

Then a text buzzed.

From Micah.

“Tell Noah I love him too.”

I slammed my palm against the dash.

“You’ll tell him yourself,” I muttered. I texted back while stopped at a red light I barely recognized as such:

“I’m getting him back.”

The cathedral district came up fast. Traffic snarled. Streets jammed. People everywhere—paparazzi, guests, gawking bystanders, chaos in designer suits and glittering gowns.

I had to park a block away because every damn space was jammed with limos.

But something stopped me cold.

On the side street—away from all the glamor and chaos—sat a white Toyota with a bright red stripe and a red top.

My breath left my body.

The front was mangled.

The paint was scraped.

Frame dented like someone had slammed it into another car.

“...oh, no,” I whispered. My legs nearly gave out. “Please no… God, no…”

I felt sick.

Like the world was tilting under my feet.

I forced myself forward, weaving through crowds, pushing past people who yelled after me, ignoring the cameras, the security, the shock on people’s faces.

I broke into a run, shoving through bodies, ignoring the cursing, the startled yells, the hands trying to stop me.

I didn’t care.

I just ran toward the cathedral doors….

Because James Blake was here.

I pushed past another wave of people before they became a blur in my peripherals. The cathedral gates were wide open, but a line of suited security blocked the church entrance like a human gate.

I tried to rush past, and just as I stepped across the courtyard, two guards immediately intercepted me, grabbing at my arms.

“Sir, you can’t—”

“No!” I hissed, fighting against their grip. “I need to get inside!”

The doors were open just enough that I could hear the soft echo of the priest’s voice from inside. A hush of reverence, solemn and holy, the kind of silence that makes you believe in miracles.

And here I was trying to stop a nightmare.

One guard snapped, voice low but threatening, “Sir, step back. You can’t go in dressed like that—”

“I don’t care what I’m wearing! Someone’s going to get hurt! You need to listen—”

“Sir, you need to calm down—”

“NO!” I screamed it so loud that the guard’s grip faltered. I shoved forward, lunging toward the doors. The guards caught me again, pulling me back, the struggle twisting us into a tangled mess of arms and fabric.

That’s when I yelled it.

“Noah!!”

It ripped out of me raw and agonized—a plea, a warning, a prayer.

Inside, the sound carried through the cathedral like lightning cracking through stone.

The priest froze midsentence.

Every head turned.

Noah turned.

His eyes widened like he’d seen a ghost.

“Aiden? Let go of him!”

The guards hesitated, startled by Noah’s reaction. Their grip loosened. It was just enough for me to step forward and stumble into the aisle.

The sound of gasps swept through the pews.

Security stepped closer, unsure whether to detain me or wait for orders.

The silence inside was suffocating.

Noah took one step toward me.

William saw it.

He stood.

His jaw was tight, fury radiating off him.

“Security!! Take him out! Now!”

“Enough!” Noah shouted, moving toward me, panic flooding his face. “Don't touch him!”

But William didn’t even let him finish, confronting him with words I couldn't hear. He stormed down from the altar, closing the distance between them. The room buzzed with confusion and alarm, security scrambling in every direction.

I only had seconds. I had to get the words out.

“He’s here!” I yelled desperately. “He is HERE—”

My voice cracked.

Half the cathedral turned.

And in that moment—with every guard focused on me, with every set of eyes fixed on chaos in the front—I saw the figure rise from a pew near the side. Slow. Deliberate. Like someone who had rehearsed the moment for years.

The gun gleamed.

My heart stopped.

“WATCH OUT!” I screamed.

But the trigger was already pulled.

The sound exploded.

Thunder.

Violence.

Pure rupture.

It shattered the cathedral.