Chapter 8 - Hallway Confrontation
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Dad grabbed my arm, attempting to drag me away from the remaining guests into a private service corridor near the restrooms. I yanked my arm free from his grip and stood my ground in the center of the hallway.
“Fix it, Claire!” Dad snarled, his eyes bulging. “Call Arthur back right now and tell him it was a mistake!”
“Fix what, Dad?” I asked.
“The credit line! The bank just froze the entire operating account for Mercer Construction! I have a forty-thousand-dollar material order due on Monday morning!”
“Then I suggest you find forty thousand dollars,” I said.
Mom rushed into the corridor behind him, clutching her pearls. “Claire, please! This is family! You can’t let your father’s business collapse!”
“I was family twenty minutes ago,” I reminded her, “right before you stood by and cheered while my sister pulled my hair and stole my vehicle.”
Madison trotted into the hallway, still barefoot, holding the silver key fob like a protective charm. “You’re seriously destroying my entire wedding over a stupid car?”
I looked at her, my gaze unflinching. “You physically assaulted me over a car, Madison. You don't get to play the victim here.”
Trevor pushed his way into the middle of the group, rounding on my father. “Richard, you swore to me that the eighty thousand dollars for my restaurant was already sitting in a clean escrow account! You told me it was a gift for marrying Madison!”
“Shut up, Trevor!” Dad snapped defensively. “I was handling it!”
“Handling it?” Trevor shouted. “You used fraudulent business loans to pay for a wedding catering bill!”
Daniel Shaw stepped into the corridor, his footsteps echoing against the tile floor. He unzipped his leather folder with a sharp, professional efficiency.
“Mr. Mercer,” Daniel began, his voice dropping into a deep, authoritative register that immediately commanded the room. “As the legal counsel representing Ms. Claire Bennett’s financial guarantor assets, I am here to formally serve you with notice of emergency audit review.”
Mom looked horrified. “Audit?”
“Because Ms. Bennett formally withdrew her personal guarantee under the misrepresentation clause,” Daniel continued, “the lender has converted your credit line into a frozen asset status pending a full forensic investigation.”
Dad looked like he was about to faint. “Misrepresentation? I didn't misrepresent anything!”
I stepped forward and took a stack of papers from Daniel’s folder, holding them out for everyone to see.
May you like
“Bank statements, Dad,” I said clearly. “Wire transfers. Wedding venue deposits. Caterer receipts. Honeymoon packages. And an eighty-thousand-dollar draft earmarked for Trevor’s lease.”
I looked directly at my mother. “All paid directly out of accounts Dad represented to the bank as emergency construction operating capital.”
