Chapter 3 - The Heavy FootstepsThe massive mahogany doors swung open with a resounding thud.
The heavy silence that followed was suffocating. Through the doorway stepped three towering men in sharp, midnight-black bespoke suits, their earpieces glinting under the chandelier light. Leading them was Director Vance, the head of global security for the entire hotel empire—a man whose face regularly graced the financial pages, not local wedding receptions.
Behind them walked a technician carrying a heavy-duty portable monitor.
Chloe’s triumphant smirk faltered for a fraction of a second. She blinked, staring at Vance. "What is the meaning of this? This is a private wedding! Get these rent-a-cops out of here right now or my father will—"
"Your father owns a chain of regional dry cleaners, Ms. Vance—oh, excuse me, Ms. Miller," Director Vance interrupted, his tone chillingly polite yet utterly dismissive. He didn't even look at Chloe; his eyes scanned the room until they locked onto me.
To the absolute horror of the two hundred guests, Director Vance walked straight past the bride, past the gasping groom, past Eleanor, and stopped right in front of me.
He bowed his head slightly. "Ms. Vivienne. Your father’s security detail has secured the perimeter. The local authorities have been notified, but per your instructions, we initiated the local protocol first."
The ballroom erupted.
"Did... did he just bow to her?" "Who is Director Vance?" "Wait, what did he call her? Ms. Vivienne?"
Dominic finally found his voice, stepping forward, his face pale with a mixture of shock and blind panic. "Director Vance, there’s been a mistake. My wife—my soon-to-be ex-wife—is a guest here. She’s... she’s an ordinary person. She doesn't have security clearance for anything!"
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"Quiet, Dominic," I said. My voice wasn't loud, but the absolute frost in it made him flinch and snap his mouth shut. I didn't look at him. I looked at the technician who was already plugging cables into the ballroom’s main audiovisual system.
"Director Vance," I said smoothly, stepping over my spilled lipstick and prenatal vitamins. "Show them what happened right before the bride started screaming."
