He raised his dirty hands to his face and grabbed the thick beard. With one powerful yank, he ripped the prosthetic beard clean off, revealing a strong, chiseled jaw. Another pull and the matted wig came away, letting long but well-kept dark hair fall into place. He wiped the soot from his face with the sleeve of the disgusting suit, revealing smooth, tanned skin and a face that looked like it belonged on magazine covers—not alleyways.
Gasps rippled through the cathedral.
The young man in the tuxedo beside him—Julian’s own assistant who had been laughing the loudest—stumbled back, eyes wide with horror. “What the—?!”
Lando’s voice, deep and commanding, cut through the stunned silence like a blade.
“I do.”
He turned to face Julian directly. The billionaire’s smug grin froze and shattered.
