Rosa's POV
"We go through with the wedding exactly as planned," I say, my voice steady despite my racing heart. "We walk down that aisle. We say our vows. And when it's time for the kiss—"
"Rosa, no," Gerald interrupts, understanding flooding his face. "Whatever you're thinking—"
"We kiss," I finish firmly. "We trigger the bombs. But we'll be the only ones in the building when they go off."
Marcus slams on the brakes. The car screeches to a stop. "You want to commit suicide?"
"I want to save fifty lives," I correct. "Think about it. Julie expects a full ceremony with all the guests. But what if we move the timing up? What if Gerald and I do a private ceremony first thing in the morning, just us and an officiant, before anyone arrives?"
Gerald stares at me. "We kiss. The bombs go off. We die. But the guests aren't there yet so they survive."
"No," I say quickly. "We don't die. We fake it. Marcus, you said you had contacts who do demolition, right? People who understand explosives?"
"Yeah, but—"
"Can they make it look like a bomb went off without actually killing anyone? Controlled explosion, make it look real enough to fool Julie's people watching on security cameras?"
Understanding dawns in Marcus's eyes. "You want to stage a bombing. Make Julie think her plan worked."
"Exactly," I say, my plan coming together. "We do the private ceremony at dawn. We kiss. The 'bombs' go off but we're actually safe—smoke, noise, destruction of the building but we're already in a protected area. Julie thinks we're dead. She thinks her enemies are safe so she has no reason to go after them at the public ceremony later."
"And while she thinks we're dead," Gerald adds slowly, "we use that time to unlock the flash drive with the fake biometrics, leak the evidence to the press, and bring down the entire Syndicate before the real wedding even starts."
"It's insane," Marcus says. "It's completely insane."
"It's the only way," I argue. "Julie's too smart. She'll see through anything else. But if she thinks we're dead, she'll let her guard down. That's when we strike."
Gerald takes my hand. "Rosa, you're talking about faking our deaths in an explosion. Even with the best special effects, that's incredibly dangerous. Things could go wrong—"
"Things are already wrong!" I pull my hand away, frustrated. "Gerald, in twelve hours, fifty people die. Maybe more. Julie's not going to stop with just this wedding. She'll keep killing until someone stops her. Let it be us."
"You're right," a new voice says.
We all jump. Vanessa is suddenly in the backseat beside me. How did she—?
"How did you get in the car?" Marcus demands.
"I have my ways," Vanessa says calmly. She looks at me with respect. "Rosa, your plan is brilliant. And I can make it work. I have a friend who does special effects for movies. He owes me his life—literally. He can rig the chapel to look like it exploded while keeping you both safe."
"Mom, this is too dangerous—" Gerald starts.
"Everything is dangerous now," Vanessa interrupts. "Your father's flash drive, Julie's massacre plan, the Syndicate hunting you—it's all dangerous. Rosa's plan at least gives us a fighting chance." She squeezes my hand. "I'm proud of you, dear. You're braver than I was at your age."
Her approval fills me with warmth. My own mother never said she was proud of me. Not once.
"We need to move fast," Marcus says, checking his mirrors. "We lost them for now but they'll find us again. If we're doing this, we need to set it up tonight."
"The chapel is already decorated for tomorrow's ceremony," I say. "Can your friend rig it by morning?"
"He'll have to," Vanessa says grimly. "I'll call him now."
My phone buzzes. Elena. I answer. "Not a good time—"
"Rosa, shut up and listen," Elena says urgently. "I've been digging into Julie's background. Her time in Europe. I found something big."
"What?"
"Julie didn't just take over the Syndicate. She merged it with two other crime organizations. She's not running one criminal empire anymore, Rosa. She's running three. Her reach is global now. And I found records of her buying military-grade explosives six months ago. Way more than she'd need for your wedding."
My blood runs cold. "How much more?"
"Enough to level ten city blocks," Elena says. "Rosa, I don't think the wedding is her only target. I think she's planning something much bigger. The wedding might just be the opening act."
I look at Gerald. His face has gone pale—he heard Elena on speaker.
"Where would she target?" Gerald asks.
"That's the thing," Elena says. "I found blueprints in her files. Rivera Fashion headquarters. Whitmore Luxury headquarters. And Manhattan National Bank—where Julie's safe deposit box is. She's going to destroy all the evidence. All three buildings. All at the same time."
The safe deposit box. Where the third piece of Julie's evidence is hidden.
"She's erasing her past," I whisper. "Destroying anything that could tie her to the Syndicate's old operations."
"And killing everyone inside those buildings," Elena adds. "Rosa, I'm looking at employee schedules. On a Saturday morning—which is when your wedding is—there's a company-wide meeting at Rivera Fashion. Your father scheduled it weeks ago. Almost two hundred employees will be there."
Two hundred people. Plus fifty at the wedding. Plus however many at Whitmore headquarters and the bank.
Julie isn't just planning a massacre. She's planning a terrorist attack.
"When?" Marcus demands. "When does she trigger it?"
"That's what I can't figure out," Elena says. "The timer system is complex. It's linked to something but I don't know what—"
"The wedding kiss," Gerald and I say together.
"What?" Elena asks.
"Julie told Vanessa the bombs trigger when we kiss," Gerald explains. "But she never said it was only the chapel. She probably rigged all four locations to go off at the same time. We kiss, hundreds of people die across Manhattan."
The car is silent except for Elena's shocked breathing on the phone.
"Then you can't get married," she finally says. "You have to cancel—"
"We can't," I interrupt. "If we cancel, Julie triggers manually. Same result."
"Then what do you do?" Elena's voice cracks.
I look at Gerald. He looks back at me. And I see the same impossible decision in his eyes that I feel in my heart.
"We evacuate the buildings secretly," I say slowly. "Before dawn. Get everyone out without tipping off Julie. Then we fake the explosion at the chapel like we planned. Let her think everyone died. But they're actually safe."
"That's four buildings to evacuate in complete secrecy in less than twelve hours," Marcus says. "How do we possibly—"
"Fire alarms," Vanessa says suddenly. "Pull the fire alarms in all three buildings around 4 AM. Everyone evacuates. By the time fire departments realize it's a false alarm, the buildings are empty. Then at dawn, you two do your fake ceremony and fake kiss. The real bombs go off but hit empty buildings. Everyone lives."
"Except the bombs will still destroy three major buildings in Manhattan," Marcus points out. "The damage, the panic, the investigation—"
"Is better than mass murder," I finish. "We lose the buildings but save the people."
My phone buzzes again. Unknown number. My hands shake as I answer.
"Very clever," Julie's voice purrs. "Did you really think I wouldn't have your phones tapped? I've heard everything."
Oh God. Oh God no.
"Julie—" I start.
"You want to save those people? Fine. But now I'm changing the rules." Her voice turns ice cold. "The bombs don't trigger on your kiss anymore, little sister. They trigger on my command. And I'll be watching. If I see one person evacuate early. If I notice anything suspicious. If you try to fake anything—I detonate immediately. And I'll be standing right there with you to make sure you both burn too."
The line goes dead.
We all stare at each other in horror.
"She's going to be at the wedding," Gerald whispers. "She's going to watch us die in person."
"No," Vanessa says, her voice shaking. "She's going to make sure you die. Even if she has to die with you."
Marcus's phone buzzes. He checks it and his face goes gray. "Satellite imaging just picked up something. Julie's car is headed to the chapel right now."
"Why?" I ask. "The wedding's not until—"
Understanding hits me like a physical blow.
"She's rigging more bombs," Gerald says. "Making sure we can't fake it. Making sure when we kiss, we actually die."
My phone rings again. Julie.
"See you at dawn, little sister," she says softly. "I'll be waiting at the altar. And this time, the substitute bride won't walk away."