The aftermath was a controlled explosion of a different kind. The police and federal agencies, armed with the evidence Silas provided, moved swiftly. Alistair Thorne was arrested at the reception, his face a mask of stunned fury. The Thorne empire collapsed within hours, its assets frozen, its legacy in ruins.
Julian was rushed to a secure medical facility, under heavy guard. His confession, given in exchange for painkillers and a vague promise of leniency, was damning. It detailed the entire plot, the financial motives, the cold-blooded decision to murder hundreds.
Back at the estate, the guests were confused, then horrified, as the story emerged. The wedding of the century had been a front for an assassination attempt.
Ye Xia and Mo found their daughter on the terrace, standing amidst the dissipating gas fumes, still in her torn and soot-stained wedding gown. They didn't see the wreckage of the detonator or the blood on the ground; Silas's team had already sanitized the scene. They only saw their daughter, safe.
Ye Xia pulled her into a fierce, trembling hug. "You knew," she whispered into her hair. "All along, you knew."
Mo stood beside them, his hand on his daughter's shoulder, his face a storm of paternal fury and profound relief. "How?" was all he could ask.
Mo Chen looked at them, the people she had fought so hard to save. "I told you, Mom," she said, her voice exhausted but clear. "Instincts."
It was the only explanation she could give. It was enough.