Chapter 8 - The Canceled Reception
|
While I was speeding safely across the city limits, Adrian was dealing with the immediate fallout of his shattered public image. I received the real-time updates from Marcus, who was monitoring the security feeds at our flagship hotel, the venue for the lavish reception.
By the time Adrian managed to smooth over his shock and address the murmuring congregation, I was already thirty miles away. He had stood at the altar, adjusting his cuffs, and loudly told the remaining guests that I had suffered a "severe emotional episode." His mother, Celeste, immediately went to work performing damage control. She stood proudly beside him beneath the cathedral's chandelier, loudly explaining to the wealthiest guests that some women with "lowly backgrounds" were simply too fragile to handle the immense pressure of marrying into powerful, established families.
Confident that they had spun the narrative in their favor, Adrian led the procession of luxury cars to the Halcyon Grand Hotel for the reception. He threw open the heavy brass doors of the main ballroom, expecting to see a room full of sympathetic faces ready to toast his resilience.
Instead, he walked into a room buzzing with dismantling energy. The twelve-piece jazz band was actively packing their instruments into velvet-lined cases. A small army of caterers was rapidly clearing away hundreds of crystal glasses and untouched trays of expensive champagne.
May you like
"What the hell is this?" Adrian snapped, grabbing the arm of a passing waiter. "Where is the food?"
The venue manager, a woman whose loyalty belonged strictly to the Ward family, stepped forward holding a digital tablet. "I apologize, Mr. Vale, but the bride has officially terminated the reception," she stated coolly. "The event is canceled, and the refundable balance has already been processed and returned directly to her private account. I must ask you and your guests to vacate the premises."
