Chapter 4 - The Boardroom Ambush
By noon the next day, the Grand Azure Oceanfront Resort was hosting its final pre-wedding brunch in the main glass-walled pavilion overlooking the Pacific.
According to my sources—courtesy of Vesper’s network—Althia and Stellin Mercer were seated at the VIP head table alongside Sutton, who was desperately trying to convince the remaining eighty guests that Alden had merely suffered a sudden case of pre-wedding panic and would return before the ceremony.
They didn't know that the resort's general manager had just received a formal federal freeze notice on all accounts associated with the wedding party.
They didn't know that Alden’s father, a prominent federal magistrate, had been sent the unedited balcony video of Sutton bragging about pushing me down the stairs.
And they certainly didn't know that I was rolling through the glass double doors of the pavilion in a motorized wheelchair, flanked by two corporate security guards and a federal process server.
The room went dead silent.
A waiter carrying a tray of mimosas froze mid-stride, the glasses clinking softly against each other.
My mother dropped her fork. It hit her gold-rimmed plate with a sharp, ringing ping that cut through the ocean breeze.
""Fallon?"" Althia stood up from her chair, her face contorted in a mixture of fury and absolute disbelief. She marched across the parquet floor toward me, her designer heels clicking angrily. ""Are you out of your mind? Look at you! You're in a wheelchair, in a public dining room, wearing a medical brace! Do you have zero shame? You’re trying to ruin your sister's wedding day out of pure, spiteful jealousy!""
I didn't flinch. I let my motorized chair roll to a stop three feet from her, my hands resting calmly on the armrests.
""Good morning, Mother,"" I said, my voice carrying clearly across the silent pavilion. ""Nice dress. Too bad it’s about to be repossessed.""
""What did you say to me?"" Althia hissed, her manicured hand twitching as if she wanted to strike me right there in front of the guests.
My father, Stellin, pushed his way through the crowd, his face purple with embarrassment. ""Fallon, get this ridiculous contraption out of here right now before I have security throw you off the property. You've humiliated your family enough.""
""Family?"" I echoed, letting out a cold, sharp smile. ""Is that what we're calling a criminal conspiracy to commit wire fraud and grand larceny now?""
Before Stellin could shout another threat, the process server stepped forward, sliding two thick manila envelopes across the white linen table right in front of my parents.
""Stellin Mercer and Althia Mercer,"" the server said in a flat, professional tone. ""You are hereby served with a federal injunction for unauthorized corporate asset misappropriation, breach of fiduciary duty, and civil conversion totaling forty-five thousand dollars.""
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Althia stared at the legal heading stamped with the federal district seal. The color drained from her face so fast she looked like a ghost.
""This... this is a mistake,"" she stammered, looking frantically around the room at the whispering guests. ""Sutton, tell them! Tell them she's lying!""
