Chapter 3 - The Grand Hall Scandal
Marcus’s brow furrowed in utter confusion. "What are you talking about? What crime?"
"Claire, shut up!" Lauren shrieked, lunging forward to grab my arm.
I sidestepped her easily, keeping Lily shielded behind me. "Ask her where she got the thirty thousand dollars for the Bellweather Manor deposit, Marcus. Ask her why she suddenly had cash for a three-thousand-dollar sample dress after telling everyone she was completely broke three weeks ago."
Marcus looked from me to Lauren, his eyes narrowing. "She said her parents gave her an advance on her inheritance. Her mother confirmed it."
I turned my gaze to Mom, who shrank back against the vanity, unable to meet his eyes. "My mother lied to cover for her. The money wasn't an inheritance, Marcus. It was stolen out of my house. It was the forty-two thousand dollars I spent two years saving to pay for my four-year-old daughter’s cochlear implant surgery."
The hallway outside the room suddenly went dead silent. A few guests who had been wandering through the upper gallery stopped, leaning over the carved wooden railings to listen. Down in the grand foyer below, the strains of the string quartet rehearsing for the ceremony faded out as the musicians sensed the tension above.
Marcus looked like he had been struck with a blunt object. He turned slowly toward Lauren. "Is this true?"
"Marcus, no! She’s crazy! She’s jealous because her own marriage failed!" Lauren sobbed, reaching out to touch his lapel. "She’s lying! She’s trying to ruin my big day because Ryan left her!"
"I have the security footage on my phone, Marcus," I said, holding out the device. "Do you want to watch your fiancée walk out of my home with my daughter’s surgery money in a tote bag?"
Marcus didn't take the phone. He didn't need to. He looked at Lauren’s face, at the raw, wild panic in her eyes, and he knew. He stepped back, slipping the velvet earring box back into his coat pocket.
"You told me your family was handling the venue," Marcus said, his voice dropping an octave, shaking with a terrifying, quiet rage. "My parents offered to pay for half the wedding, Lauren. I offered to take out a loan myself so we didn't have to rush it. You told me your pride wouldn't let you accept help, that your parents insisted on paying for their eldest daughter’s dream day!"
"I wanted to impress your mother!" Lauren screamed, abandoning the lie entirely now that the truth was laid bare. "She looks at me like I'm trash from the south side, Marcus! If I showed up in a backyard with cheap catering, she would have hated me forever!"
"My mother doesn't hate poor people, Lauren!" Marcus roared, his voice echoing through the high ceilings of Bellweather Manor. "My mother hates liars! My father built his firm from nothing! We would have respected you a thousand times more if you were honest!"
Footsteps clicked rapidly up the marble staircase. Marcus’s parents, Richard and Eleanor Vance, appeared at the end of the gallery. Eleanor was wearing an emerald silk gown that oozed old money, and Richard looked formidable in his tailor-made suit.
"What is this unseemly noise?" Eleanor demanded, sweeping toward the bridal suite with her chin high. "The guests are arriving downstairs, Marcus. Why aren't you in the groom's room?"
"The wedding is off, Mother," Marcus said without turning around.
Eleanor stopped dead in her tracks. "I beg your pardon?"
"The wedding is off," Marcus repeated, his hands trembling as he unpinned the white rose boutonnieres from his lapel and dropped it onto the floor. "The venue, the catering, the dress—it was all paid for with stolen money. She stole forty-two thousand dollars meant for a deaf child’s surgery."
Eleanor’s mouth opened in shock. She looked at Lauren, then at Mom, then at me holding Lily. "Good God," Eleanor whispered, her aristocratic composure cracking into absolute horror. "Richard, call the car."
"Wait!" Mom rushed forward, grabbing Eleanor’s silk sleeve. "Mrs. Vance, please! It’s a family misunderstanding! We can fix this! We can pay the money back after the ceremony—"
Eleanor pulled her arm away with such force that Mom stumbled backward. "Do not touch me," Eleanor said, her voice dripping with venom. "You and your daughter are pathological sociopaths. To steal from a handicapped child for... for a party?" She looked around at the marble walls of Bellweather Manor with pure disgust. "Cancel the catering checks, Richard. We are leaving immediately."
"Marcus, please!" Lauren dropped to her knees again, grabbing Marcus’s shoes, weeping uncontrollably. "I love you! I did it for us!"
May you like
Marcus stepped out of her grip, his eyes cold and dead. "You didn't do it for us, Lauren. You did it for yourself. I don't even know who you are."
He turned and walked away down the grand staircase, followed closely by his parents. The string quartet below had completely stopped playing. The room was empty save for the ruined bride on the floor, our crying mother, and me holding my daughter close to my chest.
