Chapter 1092: Wedding (3) – Oscar's Arrival

Susan was speechless at Manuel's sudden actions. Was he deliberately disrupting the wedding? She knew Jolencami royal weddings were notoriously complex, and he was delaying the ceremony. Pulling him aside, she whispered, "Stop it! People will think you're trying to sabotage Besse's wedding."

He remained silent, though he considered her the worst teammate in this situation. He believed she understood his delaying tactics.

Everyone eyed him suspiciously, as if he were attempting to abduct the bride. Just as the awkward silence stretched, Doyle spoke, "I'll write."

This surprised everyone, including Manuel. Doyle explained, "If I didn't know your close relationship, I'd agree with Mrs. Johnson. Since I can't promise Besse's parents in person, let me declare my feelings before you all."

Someone fetched pen and paper. Besse interrupted, "No need, Doyle. I trust you; written proof isn't necessary. Let's go; we're wasting time."

"Besse..." Doyle protested softly.

Manuel's initial request – a written commitment – had been his desired outcome, driven by confidence in his love for Besse. It hadn't felt burdensome, but sweet.

"I trust you," Besse repeated firmly.

Doyle, overjoyed by her trust, nodded; time was short. They departed together.

Manuel inwardly recoiled. Besse's perceptiveness was evident; she'd seen through his maneuverings, leaving him no room to retract. Was she truly so determined to marry Doyle? Helplessly, he watched them go, once again a step behind.

"Let's go," Susan urged, pulling him along. As Doyle had noted, without knowing their love, she too would have suspected abduction.

They joined the departing crowd, emerging from Besse's house into a throng of well-wishers. Fireworks erupted, celebratory and vibrant. The wedding procession, a fleet of identical luxury cars, awaited. Doyle took Besse's hand, preparing to board the lead car.

Suddenly, a car sped down the empty street, sirens wailing. A chase ensued.

"What's happening?" Doyle's face darkened. His security detail responded swiftly, "I'll investigate immediately." "Protect the prince and princess!" Numerous plainclothes guards surrounded Doyle and Besse.

A speeding car approached. Guards raised their weapons, shouting, "Stop! Or we'll shoot!"

The car didn't slow. A guard signaled to fire. Manuel, seeing Besse's impassive expression, felt a familiar pang of disappointment. He shouted, "Don't shoot!"

Susan was bewildered. Interfering in a foreign country's turmoil seemed reckless. A citizen disrupting the prince's wedding was a serious offense. She tried to restrain him, but Manuel shouted, "It's Oscar, Commander of Northfield!"

This surprised Susan. Oscar's presence was unexpected. Where had he been?

The guards hesitated, awaiting Doyle's command. Doyle's eyes flashed with anger, tempered by Besse's neutral expression; Oscar's fate was irrelevant to her, but she didn't want to instigate international conflict. She subtly indicated her preference.

Doyle ordered his guards to stand down and approached the car. "Drop your weapons!"

The guards obeyed as the car screeched to a halt. Oscar emerged, drawing everyone's stunned gaze. He approached Besse, but Doyle intercepted him.

Oscar's eyes flickered, registering the scene. He forced calm, "I'm here for Besse."

"Not happening," Doyle stated firmly. "We're getting married."

"Just a few words."

"Words that delay my wedding? No way," Doyle countered resolutely.

Oscar had come alone, not to forcefully take Besse, but for a final chance. Manuel's paternity test had shattered his self-deception. The truth was undeniable; there was no escaping it.