Chapter 7 - The Predator's Folly
My father, Frank, stood with his hands on his hips, watching Daniel’s actions and bursting into a loud laugh. He assumed a wealthy, terrified rich kid was calling an ambulance or crying to his parents. The thought made him even more arrogant.
"Go ahead!" Frank shouted, spreading his arms wide to the hundred guests standing frozen in the ballroom. "Call the ambulance! Let everyone here see what happens when spoiled daughters forget who raised them!"
His laughter echoed through the magnificent room, but not a single soul joined him. Not a whisper, not a movement. The air was thick with disgust and shock. The high-society guests of the Whitmore family, seasoned business executives—all of them looked at Frank as if he were a feral monster that had just escaped its cage.
Daniel stood there, his jaw clenched, suppressing every instinct to beat the man to a pulp. He was doing exactly what we had practiced. No shouting. No threats. His silence was far more terrifying than a thousand curses.
My mother, Patricia, seemed to begin to sense that something was wrong. Her fake smile faltered for half a second. Throughout her life of manipulating others, she had always hated silence more than screaming. People scream when they are angry and helpless. But when people are silent, it means something is moving, operating outside of her control. Daniel's quiet calm was what began to make her skin crawl.
May you like
A brave bridesmaid ran out from the crowd, kneeling beside me, her hands shaking as she pressed silk napkins against my face to stop the bleeding. Blood soaked through the lace cuffs of my wedding gown, creating a gruesome contrast.
Near the five-tier wedding cake, the photographer stood frozen, his camera hanging limply from his neck. He had accidentally captured the entire horrific moment.
