Chapter 6 - The Ultimate Audit
The sudden appearance of Richard turned the pavilion into a pressure cooker.
Jenna’s fake tears instantly dried up. She stared at her husband, her mouth open in shock. "Richard? What... what are you doing here? You were in New York!"
"I was," Richard said, stopping at the base of the altar. "Until I received a call from your sister informing me that you have committed grand larceny, tax evasion, and wire fraud using our joint marital assets."
"That's a lie!" Jenna shrieked. "Mia is just jealous! She’s trying to destroy my reputation because she’s marrying a gambler!"
"Actually, Mrs. Harlowe," a new voice called out.
Mr. Holloway walked out from behind the floral arrangements at the back of the altar, accompanied by two men in dark suits.
"These gentlemen are investigators from the Illinois Department of Revenue," Mr. Holloway announced. "They have spent the last three hours reviewing the transaction history of the Vance Sparkles account, which you reactivated this month."
One of the investigators stepped forward, pulling a badge from his pocket. "Jenna Vance-Harlowe? You are under investigation for the intentional evasion of a twenty-two thousand dollar corporate tax lien. By transferring seventeen thousand dollars of undocumented funds into an offshore account, you have committed a felony. We have a warrant to freeze all your personal and corporate assets, effective immediately."
"No!" Jenna screamed, her voice cracking. "No, you can't do this! Richard, tell them! You're a lawyer! Do something!"
Richard looked at her with disgust. "I am a lawyer, Jenna. Which is why I know exactly how to protect myself. I have already filed for a legal separation as of one hour ago. My lawyers are filing a motion to freeze our joint assets so your criminal liabilities do not touch my firm."
He turned to me. "Mia, I apologize for my wife's actions. She has been a cancer on this family for too long."
Jenna looked like a cornered animal. She turned to the crowd, then to the investigators, and finally to me.
"You did this," she hissed, her eyes wild with hatred. "You ruined me, Mia! You ruined my marriage, my career, my life! And for what? For a man who still betrayed you?!"
She pointed a shaking finger at Daniel. "He still came to my room! He still took my money! You're marrying a whore, Mia!"
I turned to Daniel. The anger inside me had burned out, leaving only a cold, hollow ache.
"Daniel," I said softly, my voice trembling. "Tell me the truth. Please."
Daniel took a deep breath. He reached into his tuxedo pocket and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper. He didn't look at Jenna. He only looked at me.
"I went to her room, Mia," Daniel said, his voice cracking. "But not for what she said. And not for her money."
He handed me the paper.
I unfolded it. It was a medical pathology report from the Chicago General Hospital, dated three days ago.
I read the lines, my eyes widening.
Patient: Mia Vance. Diagnosis: Early-stage cervical abnormality (Pre-cancerous). Recommendation: Immediate surgical excision.
My breath caught in my throat. I looked at Daniel. "What... what is this? This is my medical record. How did you get this?"
"Jenna got it," Daniel whispered, tears streaming down his face. "She has a friend who works in the administrative office at the clinic. She accessed your records illegally. She called me three days ago, right after my checkup. She told me she had this report. She said that if I didn't help her stage a 'gambling scandal' to make you look like a victim so she could keep the eighteen thousand dollars under the guise of 'saving' you, she would post your medical records online. She was going to ruin your health insurance eligibility before we got married."
A horrified silence fell over the crowd.
"She told me that if I agreed to meet her in the bridal suite, she would give me the original pathology file and delete the digital copies she stole," Daniel continued, his voice shaking with pure rage. "She made me buy that necklace with her money so she could use it as 'proof' of an affair if I backed out. I only did it to get your medical records, Mia. I didn't want you to worry about cancer before our wedding. I was going to tell you tonight, after we were legally married and your insurance was locked in under my policy."
He fell to his knees on the altar, holding his stomach, sobbing. "I didn't touch her, Mia. I swear to God, I didn't touch her. I just wanted to protect you."
I stared at the pathology report, then at Daniel, and finally at Jenna.
Jenna’s face was a mask of pure, unadulterated evil. She didn't deny it. She just laughed.
"You're both pathetic," she whispered. "You deserve each other."
"Actually," I said, my voice dropping to a terrifyingly calm whisper. "We do."
I turned to the investigators. "Gentlemen, the diamond necklace she is holding was purchased with funds stolen from our wedding donation account. It is evidence of grand larceny. And the medical records she illegally obtained constitute a severe HIPAA violation, which is a federal crime."
The investigators nodded. They stepped onto the altar, took the velvet box from Jenna’s hands, and placed handcuffs on her wrists.
"Jenna Vance-Harlowe, you are under arrest," the investigator said, reciting her rights as they led her down the altar.
Jenna screamed, kicking and shouting curses at me, at Richard, at Daniel, as they dragged her down the aisle in her expensive green dress. The guests watched in stunned, vindicated silence.
Richard followed them out, already on his phone with his divorce attorney.
The pavilion was quiet again.
I looked down at Daniel, who was still kneeling, his shoulders shaking.
I dropped my bridal bouquet. I knelt down beside him on the stone floor, wrapping my arms around him.
"Mia... I'm so sorry," he whispered into my shoulder. "I should have told you."
"You were trying to protect me," I whispered back, tears finally spilling over my eyelashes. "But from now on, we protect each other. No more secrets. Okay?"
"No more secrets," he promised.
I helped him stand up. We turned to the minister, who was looking at us with wide eyes, completely stunned by the drama he had just witnessed.
"Minister," I said, wiping my tears and smiling—a real, genuine smile this time. "I believe we have a wedding to finish."
The crowd erupted into a roaring standing ovation.
We didn't have the $18,000. It was frozen in a legal battle that would take months to resolve. But we had something much better. We had the truth. We had each other.
And as we walked down the aisle as husband and wife, I looked at the $89 blush-pink blender sitting lonely on the gift table.
May you like
I smiled.
I was, indeed, very thankful.
