Chapter 2 - The $85,000 Contract And The Unauthorized Withdrawal
Dawn broke over the oceanfront resort, casting a golden, deceptive glow across the pristine white sand and manicured lawns where hundreds of elite guests were expected to gather for Sutton’s dream wedding. Inside the bridal suite, however, the atmosphere was rapidly descending into chaotic panic.
Sutton stood in front of a massive gilded mirror, aggressively tugging at the bodice of her custom Vera Wang wedding gown while my mother, Althia, frantically paced the Persian rug with a glowing smartphone in her hand.
“What do you mean he’s not answering his phone?!” Althia shrieked, her voice cracking with hysteria as she stared at the screen. “Alden is supposed to be at the altar in three hours! The caterers are set up, the ice sculptures are melting, and half of high-society is already mingling in the courtyard!”
Sutton spun around, her face flushed with rage, her carefully applied makeup threatening to smear. “He’s pulling a stupid stunt! He’s probably sulking because I put his mother in the back row of the seating chart. Just call his best man! Tell him to drag Alden out of wherever he’s hiding and shove a tuxedo on him!”
“We tried,” my father, Stellin, muttered from the doorway, looking entirely defeated as he scrolled through his own phone. “The best man hasn't seen him since last night. In fact, the best man checked out of his room an hour ago and drove back to the city.”
Sutton’s jaw dropped. She marched across the room, snatched Althia’s phone, and dialed Alden’s number herself. It went straight to voicemail. She threw the phone across the room, where it shattered against a mahogany nightstand.
“I don’t care!” Sutton screamed, tears of pure narcissistic fury welling in her eyes. “Find him! I am not having my wedding ruined by a coward! People are live-streaming this! Look at the hashtag #SuttonAndAlden—it’s trending nationwide!”
Unbeknownst to them, miles away in the city, I was sitting at a sleek glass conference table inside my mentor Vesper’s corporate law firm office. On the mahogany desk before me sat my medical discharge papers, Alden’s digital flash drive containing the parking garage confession and dashcam footage, and the printed bank statements of my frozen corporate account.
Vesper, a formidable corporate litigator with a reputation for destroying corrupt entities in court, slid her glasses down her nose and stared at the transaction history.
“Eighty-five thousand dollars wired directly from your engineering enterprise account to the Grand Horizon Ocean Resort,” Vesper read aloud, her voice cool and precise. “Authorized via an IP address registered to your mother’s residential router in Ohio, using administrative login credentials belonging to you. This is an open-and-shut case of wire fraud and identity theft.”
“Can we freeze their assets before the wedding ceremony starts?” I asked, gripping the arms of my newly delivered medical wheelchair.
Vesper offered a sharp, predatory smile. “Not only can we freeze their accounts, Fallon, but we can also file an emergency injunction against the resort itself for processing fraudulent corporate funds without verifying corporate authorization. Furthermore, since your sister used your business identity to secure luxury amenities, every single vendor working at that wedding is currently an unwitting participant in a financial crime.”
“My parents helped cover it up,” I added, my heart pounding with a mix of adrenaline and vindication. “They knew my money was stolen, yet they still texted me this morning demanding I apologize to Sutton for 'ruining the aesthetic' with my broken leg.”
“Then we won't just ruin their aesthetic,” Vesper said, standing up and buttoning her tailored blazer. “We are going to crash the wedding with a federal marshal, a team of forensic accountants, and a court order that will turn their fairytale celebration into the most expensive public interrogation of the year.”
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I looked down at my braced leg, resting comfortably on the wheelchair footrest. The pain was still there, sharp and throbbing, but the weakness I had felt for thirty-four years was completely gone. I pulled out my phone and sent a single text message to my mother:
“Enjoy the ceremony, Mom. The bill is on its way.”
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