Chapter 5 - The Red Carpet Ambush
News travels fast in elite destination resort towns, especially when wealthy wedding parties implode in dramatic fashion. By noon, the grand oceanfront terrace was swarming with local reporters, curious wedding guests, and corporate investors who had heard rumors that the luxury resort was undergoing an emergency hostile takeover.
I sat comfortably in my motorized wheelchair on the raised veranda, shaded by a white linen umbrella, my right leg elevated on a cushioned footrest. Vesper stood to my right, managing the corporate ledger tablets, while Alden stood quietly to my left, having officially severed all ties with the Vance family household.
Below us on the terrace, the wedding guests stood in confused, whispered clusters. The floral arrangements—costing upwards of twenty thousand dollars—were being unceremoniously dismantled by resort staff acting under my direct commercial authority as the new majority lienholder.
Althia and Stellin tried to push their way through the glass doors toward the veranda, their faces flushed with absolute humiliation. Two resort security guards calmly crossed their arms and blocked the entrance.
“Let us through this instant!” Althia shrieked, hammering her fists against the glass. “Do you know who I am? I am Althia Vance! My daughter is... my daughter is...” She choked on the words, realizing that Sutton's current address was the county holding cell down the coast.
“Your daughter is currently awaiting arraignment for grand larceny and felony assault,” I called out, my voice carrying clearly across the terrace through the wireless microphone clipped to my collar.
The murmurs among the gathered guests instantly swelled into a loud wave of gasps and whispers. Cameras flashed from the perimeter of the property as paparazzi and local news bloggers captured every single detail of the downfall.
I wheeled forward slightly, looking down at my parents. For thirty-four years, they had conditioned me to be quiet, to shrink into the background, to accept crumbs while Sutton was handed the entire feast. But today, the narrative had flipped.
“Mom, Dad,” I said smoothly, my voice calm and devoid of anger. “You always wanted this wedding to be unforgettable. You wanted the world to watch Sutton shine. Well, mission accomplished. The entire country is watching right now.”
Stellin pushed past his wife, his face twisted in desperate rage. “Fallon, drop this ridiculous charade immediately! You are destroying our family name over a simple sibling squabble! Drop the charges, sign the resort back over to us, and maybe—just maybe—we will let you come to Thanksgiving dinner next year.”
A ripple of laughter echoed through the crowd of onlookers. Even Vesper had to cover her mouth to hide a grin.
“Thanksgiving?” I smiled lightly. “Dad, I wouldn't spend Thanksgiving with you if my life depended on it. As for the family name, you and Mom spent decades teaching me that loyalty only belongs to the child who screams the loudest. Well, I'm done screaming. I'm just enforcing the law.”
At that exact moment, a sleek black medical transport van pulled up to the main entrance of the resort. Two paramedics stepped out, wheeling a specialized rolling medical gurney equipped with a portable digital screen.
Vesper tapped her tablet, syncing the resort's massive outdoor PA system to the live video feed streaming from the county courthouse down the coast.
May you like
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Vesper announced into her microphone. “If you'll direct your attention to the main screens, the arraignment hearing for Miss Sutton Vance is about to commence.”
On the giant LED displays overlooking the ocean, the courtroom feed flickered to life. There was Sutton, dressed in an orange detention jumpsuit, her hair unbrushed, her mascara running down her cheeks in messy black streaks, staring in absolute horror at the camera as the judge formally read her felony charges aloud.
