Chapter 8 - The Return of the Rightful Heir
Victoria blinked, her smile faltering for just a fraction of a second.
"An oversight, Arthur?" she laughed nervously, waving her monogrammed binder.
"I assure you, every seat has been vetted! Tyler’s family has the entire front three rows, and our side is positioned precisely as agreed."
"I am not referring to Tyler's associates, Victoria," Arthur said coldly.
He turned toward the open door of the Bentley, extending his hand with deep, formal respect.
"I am referring to the primary landowner of Riverland Plantation."
Every single person on the lawn held their breath as a pair of polished ivory pumps stepped out onto the crushed oyster shells.
I stepped into the bright Lowcountry sunshine wearing an exquisite emerald silk wrap dress, my dark hair styled in soft, elegant waves that mirrored the portrait of my mother.
Around my neck hung the vintage heirloom sapphire pendant Arthur Vance had presented to me that morning from the family vault.
Beside me, my father gasped, his coffee cup slipping from his trembling hand, shattering against the flagstones.
"Allie...?" Dad whispered, taking two unsteady steps forward.
Madison’s compact mirror dropped into the grass, her mouth hanging wide open in sheer, paralyzed horror.
Victoria’s face drained of every drop of blood, turning a sickly, mottled gray that made her lavender suit look like a shroud.
"Allison?!" Victoria shrieked, her voice cracking with hysterical panic.
"What... what is the meaning of this?! How dare you show up here after what we discussed?!"
"She is here on my personal invitation, Mrs. Blake," Arthur Vance announced, stepping to my side, his deep baritone reverberating across the riverbank.
"And under the terms of the Eleanor Vance Conservation Covenant, Miss Weller possesses the sole legal authority to revoke all commercial operating permits for this property."
Victoria shook her head frantically, stepping backward onto the grass.
"No... no, that's impossible! Eleanor died twelve years ago! She was just a schoolteacher's wife! She owned nothing!"
"Eleanor Weller owned the future of my family, Victoria," Arthur stated, his voice cutting through the humid air like a scythe.
"And for twelve years, you concealed her surviving daughter from my legal team to divert an eighteen-million-dollar preservation endowment into your private family foundation."
The entire rehearsal party gasped in unison; two bridesmaids covered their mouths in shock, while the photographer lowered his camera in disbelief.
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"You told me my sister had no children, Victoria," Arthur said, stepping right up to her face, his eyes blazing with fury.
"You took two hundred and fifty thousand dollars of my money for this wedding while forcing Eleanor's daughter to eat on a folding chair in your hallway."
