Chapter 2: The Choice
"It's a deepfake! A lie!" Arthur Sterling, Julian's father, roared, signaling his security detail. "Get this beggar out of here!"
Julian looked from his father’s red, furious face to the serene, grief-stricken eyes of the old woman, whose name he would later learn was Maeve. He looked at Clara, his beautiful bride, whose pristine white dress suddenly felt like a symbol of willful ignorance.
For thirty years, Julian had lived in a golden cage, ignoring the murmurs of how his family’s wealth was amassed. But the dying pleas emanating from his phone shattered his denial. The men in black suits moved toward Maeve, but Julian stepped down from the altar, placing himself between the guards and the old woman.
"Call off the guards, Dad," Julian said, his voice surprisingly steady. "Open the blast doors. Now." "You're ruining your wedding for a stunt, Julian!" Arthur barked. "I will not lose millions in machinery for expendable laborers!"
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The word expendable hung in the air. Julian ripped the diamond-encrusted boutonniere from his lapel and threw it at his father's feet. "Then I am no longer your son."
He gently took Maeve’s fragile arm. As he turned to leave, he felt a soft hand slip into his. It was Clara. She had kicked off her designer heels. "We have a mine to save," she said, her voice fierce.
