Chapter 44—Lineage Over Love.
Two hours earlier , somewhere In the Mist estates.
Darkness. Not the soft kind.
The heavy kind.
The kind that presses against your skull.
Violet floated in it. Distantly, she felt cold.
Her wrists were numb. Her head throbbed like something was clawing from inside.
Then— A sharp electric pulse shot through her consciousness.
[System Override Initiated.]
A connection was formed.
Vira's voice, stripped of its usual playfulness, echoed faintly.
"Host. Wake up."
Nothing. Another surge.
Stronger. Like static exploding across nerves.
"Host! You have to wake up now. Your vital signs are being suppressed. External sedative detected."
A flicker. Violet's fingers twitched.
Darkness cracked. Her breathing stuttered.
"Come on," Vira snapped, abandoning sarcasm entirely. "I'm going to try again, host.You have to wake up. There is no time. I will reroute neural stimulation. This will hurt."
It did. It hurt like hell.
Pain speared behind Violet's eyes. Her lungs dragged in air violently as she jolted awake.
The world swam into view.
Dim room. Concrete walls. Storage racks.
The faint hum of ventilation.
Her wedding gown was gone. She was in a plain slip dress.
Her head pounded.
"What happened—" Her voice came out hoarse.
"Drugged," Vira replied immediately. "Central nervous depressant. You were unconscious for two hours and seventeen minutes."
Two hours.
Violet's blood went cold.
"The wedding— what about the wedding"
"It's in progress, host," Vira answered.
Ice flooded her lungs.
She tried to stand. Her legs buckled.
Vira flooded her nervous system again.
"Motor control restored to sixty percent host. You should be able to move now."
Violet grabbed the edge of a metal shelf and forced herself upright. The room tilted violently.
She swallowed bile.
Door.
There was one steel door. It was locked.
"Electronic door," Vira said rapidly. "It's connected to the venue's internal service grid."
"Can you hack it?"
A pause.
"I already am."
The overhead light flickered. The keypad on the door glitched.
Vira's voice sharpened:
"I have ninety seconds before the system flags abnormal access. When I say push, host, you push."
Footsteps echoed faintly somewhere outside the room.
Violet's pulse thundered.
"Hurry!" she shouted.
"Three… two… now!"
The lock clicked.
Violet didn't hesitate. She shoved the door open and stumbled into a narrow corridor.
Empty.
But distant— She could hear it.
Music. Wedding music.
Her wedding music.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
"Route?" she demanded.
"Left. Then stairs. Avoid main hallway cameras," Vira answered.
She ran. Barefoot.
Each step felt like her bones were hollow.
Cold tile biting into her skin.
Her body was still weak, but adrenaline filled the gaps.
She nearly slipped on the stairwell.
Caught herself. Kept moving.
Above her— Applause.
Muted through walls.
"No.
"No no no—" she whispered to herself
She burst through a service exit door into the back corridor of the venue.
Voices carried clearly now.
The priest's voice echoed through speakers:
"I now pronounce you husband and wife."
The world stopped.
Silence.
Then— Applause.
Loud. Explosive.
Final.
Her lungs emptied.
"No…"
Vira didn't speak.
For once, there was no sarcasm. No commentary.
Just system silence.
Then—
"Host," Vira said quietly. "Move faster."
Because there was one last moment.
One last chance.
The kiss.
Violet ran.
Down the corridor.
Through a side entrance. Past stunned catering staff.
She reached the grand doors just as laughter and cheers filled the hall.
"You may kiss the bride," the priest said.
The doors were half-closed. She shoved them open.
They slammed against the walls with a violent crack.
Hundreds of heads turned sharply.
Andrea stood at the altar.
Veil almost lifted.
His hands still holding— Her.
Not her.
Violet's chest burned.
Her voice tore out of her before her brain could catch up.
"STOP THE WEDDING!"
The hall fell into absolute silence.
And at that moment— Everyone saw there were two brides.
But it was too late.
The vows had been sealed. The rings were exchanged.
And Violet stood at the doors.
Breathing. Shaking.
She was the bride who arrived after her own wedding.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The Mist Estates Hall did not erupt.
It froze.
Two brides stood beneath the altar lights.
Andrea's words still echoed in the vaulted ceiling.
"You're not dead."
The broadcast feed cut.
But not before the sentence went through. Clips were already circulating.
Phones were raised. Guests whispered into them. Livestreams began independently. Security moved too late.
Netizens began flooding the comment sections:
Why are there two Violets?. I think I recognize the one on the altar."
"Isn't that Julia Crescent? What is she doing there?"
"I thought this was Andrea and Violet's wedding. Why is it Julia?"
Inside the Mist hall, no one yet understood how quickly the narrative was escaping their control.
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.
.
.
.
Meanwhile Clara did not flinch. She stepped forward.
"Since we're unveiling truths," she said evenly, "let's finish this ceremony properly."
"As many of you know" she paused " my name is Julia Crescent. Since I was pretty popular".
Kingsley advanced. " I don't care who you are, you will leave this venue immediately."
She did not look at him.
"I won't." She answered
Andrea's jaw tightened. "This is fraud, I never consented to this."."
"No," Clara corrected calmly. "You might not agree. But it's done. The vows were spoken. The ring was placed. You are my husband."
A murmur rolled through the cathedral.
Violet stood near the entrance, pale but upright. Her white slip dress was stained. Her legs were scraped raw. Her eyes blazing
Clara turned slightly — not toward her sister.
Toward the crowd.
"As I said you guys might know me as Julia crescent, but what you don't know is that Julia isn't my real name."A pause. "It never legally was."
The silence deepened.
"My real name is Clara De'ora."
The De'ora surname triggered immediate recognition. Several guests shifted. Reporters edged closer.
Clara reached behind her and produced a document folder.
Cream-colored. Official seals visible.
"You see," she continued, voice steady and controlled, "I was born into the De'ora family."
Gasps spread.
"And abandoned the same week I was born."
Lily staggered backward as if struck. Kingsley's expression hardened into stone.
"At birth," Clara continued, "I was relinquished. Signed away. Removed."
She opened the folder and held up the first page.
The adoption papers.
Stamped. Certified. Dated.
The De'ora signatures visible in black ink.
"They gave birth to two but decided one daughter was sufficient."
The words did not tremble.
They cut.
Christopher stepped forward and handed copies to two reporters before security intercepted him.
Cameras flashed. Phones zoomed in.
The De'ora name was unmistakable.
Relinquishment of parental rights. Transfer of custody. Infant female.
Clara— unnamed at the time.
Adopted by the Crescent family within days of birth.
"The De'ora rumors are true—" a reporter whispered.
"They do abandon the other if it was twin."
Clara's lips curved faintly.
"I was sent away before I could walk."
Violet shook her head. "That's not—"
"That is exactly what happened". Clara cut her off
Andrea remained silent.
Watching. Processing.
"This marriage," Clara continued, turning back toward the altar, "although built on deception, it's the only way you can repay me.This marriage is compensation. You owed me a life. I'll take this one." She looked at Lily and Kingsley "You'll learn to live with it."
She turned directly at Andrea.
"This marriage won't be built on love, since I know you don't love me. It will be built on lineage."
The cathedral tensed.
"I am De'ora by blood," she said clearly. "Before any adoption. Before any signatures. Before any convenient erasure."
Kingsley's voice thundered. "You have no claim to this family."
"Biology disagrees."
The air thickened.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
As the drama was going on. Outside the cathedral, notifications surged as reporters released news after news, live from the source.
DE'ORA TWIN SCANDAL SECRET CHILD ABANDONED AT BIRTH CRESCENT SECOND BRANCH DAUGHTER CLAIMS BLOOD RIGHT
Public sympathy did not soften. It sharpened — toward spectacle, toward scandal, toward power.
The narrative fractured instantly, comments like:
"So Julia Crescent is a De'ora. she's a discarded heir?
"No wonder why they look alike, both Clara and Violet. So they are really twins?.
"The De'ora really abandon one twin, wow at this time people are still so superstitious?".
'Disgusting, if I'm Julia, I would have done the same thing."
floated online. While some netizens disagreed:
"Even though she was abandoned, I don't think she suffered ".
"She was adopted by the crescent family, the 7th top richest family in Migan City. Although a second branch it's still a rich family".
"Knowing that Violet is her sister,she still did such disgusting act. It's not as if violet is the one who abandoned her, why must she destroy her sister's marriage?".
"The only pitiful ones here are Andrea and Violet."
The Internet split into two.
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Meanwhile still in the Mist estate
Clara stepped back beside Andrea.
Close enough to touch. But she did not reach for him.
Neither did she step away.
"You signed the papers, both of you." she said to Kingsley and Lily, lifting another page. "You ended your rights."
She let the sentence settle.
"But you never erased my blood."
Security approached again.
Andrea lifted a hand. They stopped.
Clara's gaze did not waver.
"I am not here for forgiveness," she said. "I am here for recognition."
"The vows were completed." She paused"The declaration was spoken," she continued calmly. "The ring was placed."
She lifted her hand slightly. The ring caught the cathedral light.
"Although the kiss didn't happen, it doesn't matter." She paused, then turned slightly toward the priest. "It doesn't matter… right, Father?"
The priest stood rigid. Uncertain.
"I am legally married. I know I am."
The statement landed like a gavel.
Violet's breath faltered.
Kingsley's control fractured.
"This wedding is invalid," he snapped.
"Then challenge it," Clara replied smoothly.
A ripple passed through the guests. This was no longer emotional chaos.
This was warfare.
Outside, the crowd had grown.
Inside, the air was filled with mixed reactions.
Clara stood at the altar.
Not as a victim. Not as a daughter.
But as a claimant.
As the rightful disruption.