Chapter 2 - The Trap in the Suite
Derek snapped. Forgetting the two hundred pairs of eyes locked onto him, he lunged across the table to grab my wrist.
"You insane bitch!" he barked, his fingers digging into my skin.
That was all the audio recorder in my dress needed.
"Let go of her!" a voice shouted from the front row. It was Arthur Vance, the chairman of Vance Logistics and my father’s longest business partner. He stood up, his face thunderous. "Derek, get your hands off your wife this instant!"
Derek froze, suddenly remembering where he was. He dropped my wrist as if it burned him, taking a hasty step back and holding his hands up. "Arthur, please. It was an accident! She slipped—"
"I have it on tape, Derek," I said quietly into the mic, letting the entire room hear. "Just like I have the audio of you telling me three nights ago that once we were married, I could never walk away."
Derek’s mother rushed forward, trying to block the cameras that guests had now pulled out. "This is a private family matter! Everyone put your phones away! Claire is hysterical, she’s had too much champagne!"
"I haven't touched a drop of alcohol all night," I replied, staring directly into Derek's panic-stricken eyes. "And I'm not hysterical. I'm leaving."
I turned on my heel, my blood-stained train sweeping across the polished hardwood floor, and walked straight toward the bridal suite. Lena was right behind me, locking the heavy double doors the second we crossed the threshold.
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"Did you get it?" I asked, my breath catching in my throat as the adrenaline finally hit my bloodstream.
Lena pulled out her phone and handed me a tissue. "Every single second, Claire. The recording is saved, the live feed was captured, and the police are already downstairs."
