Chapter 2 - The Ruin of the Golden Wedding
Charlotte let out a sharp, strangled shriek from the center of the floral altar, her diamond veil trembling against her back.
“This is my wedding day!” Charlotte screamed, stomping her designer satin heel onto the parquet floor like an enraged toddler.
“Julian and I spent two million dollars on this ballroom! You have no right to come in here and ruin my moment with this dirty spinster!”
Julian Thorne, the polished socialite heir Charlotte was marrying, stepped forward with his fists clenched, attempting to project dominance.
Julian was the son of a prominent Wall Street venture capitalist, a man who had only proposed to Charlotte because Charles had promised a twenty-million-dollar dowry.
“Mr. Vance, with all due respect, this is a private family event,” Julian spoke, his voice wavering slightly beneath Dominic’s unblinking gaze.
“Whatever domestic issues you have with Vivienne should be handled in private, not during our reception.”
Dominic turned his head slightly, eyeing Julian with the cold, detached amusement of a surgeon inspecting a parasite.
“Your reception, Julian?” Dominic asked softly.
He raised his left hand, snapping his fingers once with effortless authority.
From behind the heavy velvet curtains, the General Manager of the Plaza Hotel hurried into the ballroom, holding a black leather corporate folder.
The manager did not look at Charles or Julian; he walked directly to Dominic, bowing his head with profound, trembling reverence.
“Mr. Vance, the master accounting ledger and facility occupancy permits are ready for your review,” the manager announced in a crisp, clear voice.
Dominic took the folder, flipping open the certified gold-embossed pages without looking down at the parchment.
“Julian, this hotel is a wholly owned subsidiary of Vance Sovereign Real Estate Holdings,” Dominic announced to the four hundred listening guests.
“And the reservation for this ballroom was authorized under a temporary credit guarantee signed by your father-in-law forty-eight hours ago.”
Dominic turned his gaze toward Charles, whose knuckles were white against the edge of the dining table.
“A credit guarantee that bounced at four o'clock this afternoon due to a complete lack of liquidity in the Sterling corporate treasury.”
A wave of horrified murmurs surged through the rows of billionaires and senators, several board members backing away from my father in utter shock.
Charles’s face turned an apocalyptic shade of grey as the high-society facade he had spent forty years constructing began to disintegrate.
“That is a banking error!” Charles yelled desperately, sweat pouring down his temples and ruining his expensive grooming.
“My accounts hold fifty million dollars in commercial paper!”
“Your accounts have a negative balance of twelve million dollars, Charles,” I spoke up, stepping forward beside Dominic in my backless black silk gown.
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I looked at the four hundred guests who had clapped while I was shivering in the fountain, my crimson lips curving into a lethal, unyielding smile.
“And as the sole governing chairperson of the Plaza’s parent trust, I am officially terminating this wedding’s venue permit effective right now.”
