Chapter 12 - A Toast to Consequences
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Daniel froze, his hand hanging awkwardly in the air. He glared down at me, his jaw clenching tightly.
“Dad, don't start this again,” Daniel snapped, lowering his voice into an angry whisper. “Everyone is watching. Stop being dramatic and let Mom get up.”
“I’m not being dramatic, Daniel,” I replied, my voice perfectly level, carrying across the quieted tables around us. “And your mother is staying right where she is.”
“What is your problem?!” Daniel demanded, his voice rising in frustration.
At that exact moment, the heavy double doors at the back of the ballroom swung open.
Marcus Hale walked into the room, impeccably dressed in a dark charcoal suit, carrying a sleek black leather folder in one hand and a digital tablet in the other. He caught my eye, giving me a single, firm nod.
I stood up slowly, smoothing the front of my tuxedo jacket.
“My problem, Daniel,” I said, looking him dead in the eye, “is that I have spent twenty-nine years enabling a coward.”
I didn't wait for his response. I stepped away from the table and walked straight toward the bandstand at the front of the room.
Vanessa saw me moving toward the stage and immediately stepped into my path, her eyes flashing with fury.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Vanessa hissed under her breath. “This is my night! Get back to your seat!”
I didn't even look at her. I brushed past her as if she were made of glass, walked right up to the bandleader, and took the wireless microphone directly out of his hand.
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I turned around to face the two hundred guests sitting in the sparkling ballroom.
“Testing, one, two,” my voice boomed through the high-end audio system, silencing every conversation in the room in an instant.
