My sister believed my Navy uniform would spoil the image of her royal-style wedding. So she removed me from the guest list, posed happily for the cameras, and acted as if I had never existed.

A door slammed.

When the emergency lights came on seconds later, the man was gone.

And on the altar, beside Alexander’s abandoned wedding ring, lay a small white card.

I picked it up before anyone could stop me.

Only one sentence was written on it.

Welcome to the real inheritance, Commander Carter.