Rebirth Of The Heiress And The Tycoon's Lover (Alina) novel Chapter 238

Chapter 238

AUTHOR’S POV.

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Framed in the doorway stood Silas, Elena, and Seraphina,

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Seraphina’s lips curled into a slow, smug smile, her eyes glittering with malicious satisfaction. Elena’s expression was one of cold disdain, her chin lifted as though she had every right to be here. And Silas…his very presence pressed down on the cathedral like a storm cloud, oppressive and unyielding.

A ripple of whispers surged through the crowd, hushed voices colliding in confusion.

Lucian’s eyes darkened dangerously, every inch of him radiating tension. Fury flickered beneath his calm exterior, but so did something sharper, deadlier….protectiveness.

Beside him, Alina’s breath caught. Her fingers trembled faintly in his grip, though she held tighter, clinging to him. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not today. Not now.

Lucian drew in a slow, measured breath, his eyes narrowing on the figures at the door. Every muscle in his body coiled with readiness, his jaw clenched as though he were seconds away from unleashing hell itself.

The silence of the cathedral thickened, suffocating and uneasy, as all eyes followed Silas, Elena, and Seraphina.

With deliberate slowness, the three of them began their walk down the aisle. Their footsteps echoed against the marble floor, each one sharp and unhurried.

They did not rush, no, they moved with the kind of arrogance only those who thrived on power and manipulation could wield. Their heads were held high, eyes gleaming with satisfaction at the chaos they had stirred.

The air grew tighter with every step they took. Murmurs rippled through the guests like whispers of a gathering storm, uncertainty and shock passing from pew to pew.

Alina’s fingers trembled faintly in Lucian’s grasp. Her breath hitched before she leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t invite them, Lucian. I have no idea why they’re here.” Her tone cracked with urgency, a plea for reassurance.

Lucian’s eyes didn’t leave the three intruders as he gave her hand a firm squeeze. His voice was low and steady, like a controlled steel beneath the surface. “Don’t worry about it for now. I’ll deal with them… after the church ceremony.”

There was no doubt in his tone, no hesitation. He said it as though it were already settled, as though Silas and his entourage were nothing more than an inconvenience he would crush beneath his heel once he had claimed his bride.

The trio finally reached the front and slid into an empty row at the front of the cathedral. Seraphina made sure to move lazily, her gown swishing deliberately as she brushed past gawking guests, a smirk tugging at her lips when she caught Alina’s nervous glance.

Elena followed, her expression carved from ice, her disdain obvious in the upward tilt of her chin.

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Chapter 238

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Silas, however, carried the weight of silent menace….his presence alone seemed to drain the warmth from the

air.

Even after they had sat, the whispers continued. Guests leaned toward each other, speaking behind raised hands, their voices a chorus of confusion.

The priest, rattled by the sudden intrusion, faltered as he tried to steady his voice. “If… anyone has reason…” His words stumbled as the charged murmurs filled the hall. “…why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Alina’s chest tightened painfully. Her heart thundered against her ribs as she swept her gaze over the cathedral. Every face blurred, every sound distorted under the pounding in her ears.

For weeks, she had carried an unshakable unease, a dread she couldn’t explain. Now it returned in full force, heavy and suffocating.

But no one spoke.

Her lungs burned as she drew in a shaky breath of relief. Her shoulders eased fractionally. But that didn’t last.

The priest, clearly unsettled but determined to move forward, gave a slight nod. “In the absence of none…”

But before he could continue, a voice rang out.

“I object.”

The words cut through the hall like a blade, sharp and merciless.

Gasps erupted from the crowd. Heads turned toward the back of the cathedral once more.

The doors stood open again, framing the figure of Damien Evergreen. He walked with unshakable confidence, his every step deliberate, a smirk tugging faintly at his lips as if the world belonged to him.

But it wasn’t only him.

Behind him came an older man, tall but weathered, with the same Evergreen sharpness in his eyes. His salt- and–pepper hair was neatly combed back, and though age had begun to bend his shoulders slightly, he stood tall, his presence commanded attention.

His hands gripped the handles of a wheelchair, pushing forward a frail–looking woman whose once–striking features were etched with time and suffering. Her eyes, though dimmed, carried a shadow of familiarity that tugged at the edges of Alina’s memory.

She froze, her stomach twisting violently. Why… does she look familiar?

Lucian’s entire frame stiffened. His jaw clenched so tightly his teeth threatened to crack. He shifted subtly, tugging Alina just behind him, shielding her with the breadth of his body. His stance was protective, almost territorial, his glare fixed on Damien like a loaded weapon ready to fire.

Damien’s confident stride faltered, if only for a fraction of a second, at the protective gesture. His brows knit into a frown, irritation flickering across his face as though Lucian’s instinctive defense of Alina had struck

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Chapter 238

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deeper than he intended to show.

The silence was absolute, heavy enough to suffocate. Guests leaned forward in their seats, caught between fear and fascination as the drama unfolded before them.

Damien finally reached the altar, his chin lifting in quiet defiance.

Lucian’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and lethal. “What the hell is the meaning of this?” His tone was razor–edged, low enough that it thrummed like a warning growl.

Damien didn’t answer. He only tilted his head slightly, the smirk curling back onto his lips, as though enjoying every second of the disruption.

Lucian’s gaze snapped past him, hardening further when it landed on the older man. His voice dipped lower, dark as midnight. “Darius Evergreen.” He said the name like venom.

The guests gasped anew, a fresh wave of whispers racing through the cathedral at the recognition. The Evergreens weren’t just known…they were feared.

“With all due respect,” Lucian bit out, his eyes narrowing dangerously, “I don’t appreciate the fact that you’ve come to disrupt my wedding. So why don’t you explain what the fuck this is about?”

Darius Evergreen’s voice came calm, smooth as aged whiskey, carrying the quiet authority of a man accustomed to power. “I apologize for the intrusion, Lucian. But this wedding… cannot hold.”

The priest paled at the words, glancing nervously between the powerful men standing at the altar. His hands twitched against the Bible he held, the weight of the unfolding storm too much for his trembling frame.

Lucian’s control snapped, his voice booming, sharp enough to make the priest wince. “And why the fuck not?”

Gasps echoed again at the profanity uttered in the house of God, but Lucian didn’t care. His entire being burned with fury, his patience shattered.

Damien’s smirk vanished, replaced by a firm, unyielding glare. His voice was steady, his words precise, designed to strike deep.

“Because you cannot marry my sister, that’s why.”

The cathedral fell into stunned silence.

Every guest froze, their shock palpable in the air. Alina’s blood turned to ice, her breath catching violently in her throat.

Lucian’s eyes darkened, his glare drilling into Damien with a fury so potent it could kill. His hand gripped Alina’s tighter, grounding her, shielding her even as the world around them spun into chaos.

The frail woman in the wheelchair lifted her gaze then, her sunken eyes meeting Alina’s across the space. And for the first time, Alina’s heart skipped a beat…because in that face, worn and fragile, she saw echoes of herself.

14:34 Sat, Oct 4

Chapter 239