Vincent ran a shaky hand through his hair, panic breaking through his fake composure. “The police station had skeleton staff today. The evidence officer we needed was coming to the wedding anyway. This was the only place no one would question a random box being carried in and out.” Her stomach turned in disgust. “You hid stolen evidence in plain sight at my wedding.”
“It was supposed to be quick and easy,” he pleaded. “In and out, no alarms, no searches. It was supposed to be over before anyone noticed.” Emma let out one sharp, broken laugh. “You underestimated me. You never thought I’d figure it out.” Vincent stepped closer, hands raised in desperate apology, his voice cracking with excuses. “I was trying to protect us. You don’t know how bad things got.”
“If you cared about protecting us,” Emma snapped coldly, “you never would’ve gotten mixed up with criminals like him in the first place.” The church felt smaller, colder, filled only with tension and fear. The elderly man lost his patience completely. “Enough wasting time.” He advanced on Emma, the knife glinting in the light, his hand steady with deadly intent. The crowd froze. Someone sobbed quietly. No one dared move.
But Rex moved. He burst through the church doors like a bolt of black lightning, pure muscle and trained instinct, faster than anyone could react. One second the man was advancing with the knife, the next he was crashing to the floor. Rex slammed into his chest with perfect police dog precision, knocking him flat. The knife flew from his hand, skittering across the stone floor.
