The Unwavering Heart That Broke (Nathalie and Lance) novel Chapter 537

Damaris cast her eyes downward, screaming internally while forcing a compliant, blushing smile for the audience. In the front row, Mr. and Mrs. White were practically in tears. They were so moved, entirely convinced their daughter had found the ultimate gentleman. Nathalie took her seat next to Lance, watching the scene unfold with a heavy heart. “Bagot is genuinely in love with her, isn't he?” she murmured. She glanced at Lance. As Bagot's best friend, he had to know the truth. She had reassured Damaris in the suite, but the nagging suspicion in her gut hadn't faded. Bagot wasn't acting. This was entirely real for him. Lance handed her a glass of juice. “Thirsty?” Nathalie glared at him. “Is he or isn't he?” “Take a guess.” Nathalie rolled her eyes, refusing to entertain his games. But she didn't need him to confirm it; she already knew. A wave of complicated emotions washed over her. Bagot was trying to protect Damaris, and his intentions were pure. But situations like this always spiraled out of control. If Lawrence never showed up, and Damaris actually demanded a divorce in two years, what was Bagot going to do? Was he arrogant enough to think he could make her fall in love with him before the contract expired? Nathalie watched them step onto the brilliantly lit stage, the center of everyone's attention. Suddenly, a warm hand wrapped around hers. She looked over. Lance was watching her intently. “He's incredibly brave, wouldn't you say?” Nathalie lowered her gaze and nodded slowly. “He is.” “Then let's stay out of it. Time will sort everything out.” Nathalie didn't argue, but she firmly pulled her hand out of his grip. The officiant delivered a sweeping, romantic speech. The bride and groom stood face to face, trading their vows. “You may now kiss the bride.” The ballroom erupted in thunderous applause. Bagot leaned in close, his breath ghosting over her lips. “Don't hit me,” he whispered. “Everyone is watching.” Damaris's breathing hitched. Kissing him in front of hundreds of people felt insanely awkward. If she had known he was going to pull this, she would have worn a veil to fake the kiss! She squeezed her eyes shut, deciding to just blindly endure it. It's just a quick touch of the lips. It'll be over in a second. She repeatedly chanted the mantra in her head as she felt his warmth drawing nearer. It was soft, like a feather brushing against her cheek. Her grip on the bouquet tightened until her knuckles turned white, her palms slick with sweat. He was inches away. But just as their lips were about to meet, a deafening crash shattered the romantic silence. BANG! Damaris's eyes flew open, her head snapping toward the entrance. The heavy ballroom doors had been violently kicked open. A group of men in sharp suits stalked into the room. Leading the pack was a strikingly handsome man, his face a mask of pure rage. He raised a handgun, aiming it directly at Bagot's life-sized cardboard cutout by the door, and pulled the trigger. BANG! The gunshot echoed through the hall, followed instantly by a chorus of terrified screams. Total chaos erupted. Lawrence radiated a suffocating wave of violence. His piercing blue eyes locked onto Damaris in her wedding dress, a twisted, predatory smile spreading across his face. He aimed the smoking gun straight at the stage. “Did I ever give you permission to get married?”