Chapter 1368:

Security was tighter than ever.

At the entrance, Babette—bundled up and trying not to draw attention—was stopped. She had to call Egbert to come and escort her inside.

“Why did you come?” Egbert whispered sharply.

“The Watsons aren’t exactly welcome here. Don’t get caught.”

Babette glanced aside, her voice quiet but sincere.

“I just wanted to see her. I hope she’s happy, even if she isn’t marrying my cousin.”

At the mention of Brandon, Egbert’s expression darkened.

“Okay, my bad. I won’t bring him up again,” Babette quickly added, raising her hands in surrender.

“That’s better,” Egbert said, finally nodding.

Elsewhere, the other guests gradually took their seats, anticipation humming through the air as the ceremony drew near.

Soft music drifted through the hall while Millie, surrounded by those supporting her, waited just outside the doors.

“Millie, don’t be afraid. We’re all here,” Giffard murmured gently, steady at her side.

Millie nodded, her eyes flicking from Giffard to Nicole. In a rare moment of tenderness, Nicole gave Millie’s hand a light squeeze—quiet encouragement to breathe and relax.

A small, hesitant smile finally curved Millie’s lips, fragile but real.

She glanced back and saw Ari in her little princess dress, smiling brightly at her. Ari and a young boy would serve as the flower children.

Inside the hall, the officiant spoke in a calm, measured voice. Millie drew a deep breath, steadying herself as she waited.

Then the doors before her shifted and began to open.

It felt as though every light turned toward her at once, bathing her in a luminous glow.

“Wow!”

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Murmurs of admiration rippled through the room. A sparkle danced in Millie’s eyes as she lifted her gaze toward the altar.

Myron stood there in a crisp white suit, his expression tender, patient, unwavering.

Giffard nudged her lightly. Millie knew it was her cue.

As the soft strains of the wedding march swelled, she stepped forward—supported by Nicole and Giffard—moving steadily toward Myron, one step at a time.

On both sides of the aisle, clusters of crystal décor and lush floral arrangements glowed beneath the soft lights—ethereal, otherworldly, breathtaking. The entire hall was drenched in a dreamy ocean-blue haze, like a scene carved from the heart of the deep sea.

Above Millie, the ceiling shimmered like a vast mirror reflecting endless waves. With each step she took, a luminous ripple unfurled beneath her heels, spreading outward as though she were walking across the surface of water. The whole venue seemed to breathe with her movement—layers of light, motion, and color swirling together until the moment felt almost unreal.

And there he was—Myron—standing at the end of the aisle, waiting for her.

A short flight of steps lay ahead. With Nicole on one side and Giffard on the other, Millie moved forward slowly, each step steady and deliberate. The soft click of her heels echoed through the hushed hall.

Her gaze stayed fixed on Myron’s warm, gentle smile. She was truly going to marry him. She was truly becoming his wife.

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