9. Free
Chapter nine
Free
The noise inside the reception hall was a deafening roar.
Daniel and I sat at the sweetheart table positioned directly at the edge of the dance floor.
The layout was exactly as Elias had promised.
Flanking the polished hardwood to our immediate left was Table One, where Vincent Sterling and the senior partners from Daniel’s brokerage were loudly enjoying the open bar.
To our right sat Table Two, holding my mother, Daniel’s parents, and Harper.
Daniel lounged in his chair, swirling a half-empty glass of champagne and buzzing with relief.
He leaned in close, the familiar scent of his cologne cutting through the rich smell of roasted scallops. “I can’t believe how perfectly Sarah pulled this off,” he murmured. “The food, the music, the lighting. Her team really outdid themselves.”
“I wanted it to be memorable,” I replied, taking a slow sip from my water glass. “Sarah really understood my vision.”
“Just like you understand me.” He squeezed my knee under the draped tablecloth. “And I have great news. Vincent just pulled me aside. He said seeing me settle down proves I have the stability for senior management. They’re pushing up my quarterly review.”
It was almost too good to be true. He was sitting beside me, basking in the glow of a promotion he wouldn’t have by Monday morning. “That’s wonderful news.”
I looked past the sea of tables, my gaze drifting to the second floor of the conservatory. Behind the tinted glass of the A/V booth, a familiar silhouette stood in the shadows near the mixing board. Elias was watching the room, waiting for the signal.
The clattering of silverware slowed as the dinner service officially concluded. A waiter cleared our plates, and the DJ’s voice boomed over the main speakers, bright and enthusiastic.
“Alright, everyone! Let’s get comfortable. We have a few words from the wedding party before we open up the dance floor.”
The guests clapped, shifting their chairs to face the front of the room.
Greg went first. Stepping up to the microphone stand positioned on the edge of the dance floor, he delivered exactly what was expected of a best man.
He told a lighthearted story about Daniel getting lost on a college golf course, teased him about taking too long to style his hair, and then raised his glass.
He joked that Daniel had finally found a woman entirely out of his league and was incredibly smart to lock her down.
Laughter echoed through the hall. Daniel beamed, raising his champagne flute to his friend.
“And now,” the DJ announced as the applause faded, “let’s hear from the Maid of Honor. The bride’s sister, Harper Brooks!”
Harper stood up from Table Two. She smoothed her hands over her blush-pink silk dress and walked to the microphone with supreme confidence. Gripping the metal stand, she cast a lingering, deeply familiar smile toward Daniel before looking out at the expectant crowd.
“Hi, everyone,” Harper said, her voice high and breathy. “For those who don’t know me, I’m Harper. Marianne’s little sister.”
She paused, letting the polite murmur of acknowledgment settle.
“Growing up, Marianne was always the one taking care of everything,” Harper continued, looking directly at me. “She is the most generous person I know. She has always protected me, unconditionally. That’s just who she is. Loyal. Fierce. Giving.”
At Table Two, my mother beamed with pride, clasping her hands tightly beneath her chin.
“When Daniel came into the picture,” Harper said, “I was so happy for her. Because I saw how devoted he was. Sisterhood is about wanting the absolute best for the person you love. And Daniel… Daniel is the best.”
She was standing in front of our family, preaching about loyalty while carrying the child of the man sitting next to me. The sheer arrogance of it was suffocating.
“So, to my beautiful sister, and my new brother-in-law,” Harper finished, raising her glass with a perfectly steady hand. “May your marriage be built on honesty. I love you both.”
“To Marianne and Daniel!” the crowd echoed warmly.
Daniel leaned over, brushing his lips against my cheek. “That was sweet of her. She really stepped up.”
“She certainly did,” I agreed.
The DJ stepped back to his soundboard. “Beautiful speeches. Now, I believe the groom has prepared a little surprise for his bride to kick off the celebration. Let’s direct our attention to the main screen.”
This was the cue.
Daniel shifted in his chair, adjusting his jacket. He had spent hours curating perfectly wholesome photos, eager to show his parents and his boss what a grounded man he was.
Before he could start his act, I took his place. Stepping out from behind the sweetheart table, I walked out to face the room. This placed me directly in front of the crowd, leaving Daniel sitting alone at the table behind me.
A ripple of pleasant confusion spread through the room. Vincent Sterling leaned forward in his chair, holding a fresh drink. The guests assumed I was giving an impromptu speech to introduce the surprise.
I pulled the microphone from the stand.
“Daniel worked very hard on his surprise for tonight,” I said. “But earlier today at the altar, he made a promise in front of all of us. He swore to forsake all others. I realized a marriage shouldn’t start with illusions. It needs to be built on total exposure.”
I raised my eyes to the dark glass of the A/V booth on the second floor and gave a single nod.
High above the table, a mechanical whirring sound kicked in. The projector screen began its descent from the ceiling, dropping down the wall directly behind where Daniel was sitting.
Daniel stood up, turning to look at the massive white canvas lowering behind his chair. “Marianne, what is this?”
The ambient lights cut out, plunging the venue into darkness. A split second later, the projector beam hit the screen.
A crisp, twenty-foot-wide video of the interior of my Audi flashed across the canvas. Because it was pulled directly from the integrated dashcam, the perspective was a wide, fixed angle of the front seats.
The audio kicked in. Leo had bypassed the DJ’s limiters, routing the sound straight through the venue’s main speakers. The volume was deafening.
Harper’s face filled the projection. “I hate this,” Harper cried, her whiny voice echoing off the steel arches above us. “I hate watching her plan a wedding with my boyfriend. We should be celebrating the birth of our baby.”
A ripple of confused, horrified murmurs swept through the front tables. A woman in the second row pointed to what Harper was holding. “Is that a sonogram?”
“Oh my God,” someone else said. “I think it is.”
The video continued playing on the screen. “I hate it too,” Daniel said, leaning back against the headrest. “But I need her to set up those joint accounts. Just give me a little more time to get the money sorted, and then I swear to God we’re done with her. I’ll take care of us.”
Vincent Sterling sat frozen at Table One. He knew exactly what that meant.
“When are you going to dump her?” Harper asked.
“The second the ink is dry on her partnership shares, baby,” Daniel replied, laughing. “We just have to play the game a little longer.”
The confession hung in the air for exactly two seconds. The crowd sat paralyzed, struggling to process the sheer, calculated brutality of the fraud they had just heard.
Then, the video executed a hard cut.
The audio shifted instantly. There was no more talking. The massive hall was suddenly filled with the unmistakable, wet sound of skin slapping rapidly against skin, accompanied by breathless moaning.
A collective gasp ripped through the room.
The night-vision footage illuminated the massive canvas. Harper was straddling Daniel in the driver’s seat, bouncing on his cock. Her bare breasts were completely exposed on a twenty-foot screen in front of our entire family.
Daniel’s hands were clamped hard onto her bare hips. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned. “Take it.”
“Daniel, please,” Harper gasped, her face contorted in ecstasy. “Don’t stop.”
Susan Vance let out a piercing, hysterical wail, pressing both hands over her eyes. Richard Vance turned sheet white, looking at his son as if he were a complete stranger.
Daniel scrambled away from the sweetheart table. The polished facade was completely gone, leaving behind a frantic man watching his life collapse in real time.
“Turn that off!” he screamed, pointing at the A/V booth.
But it was too late. On the screen, Daniel grabbed the back of Harper’s neck, pulling her down into a desperate, messy kiss.
The brutal slapping echoed relentlessly through the speakers.
And then, it was all over, and they came together, like the twisted traitors they were.
The respectable man he had pretended to be was gone forever.
“Understatement of the century. That frigid bitch can’t hold a candle to you.”
The video faded to black.
“Oh my God,” my mother gasped. She stumbled backward, knocking her chair over and spilling her wine across the white linen. She stared at Harper’s stomach in unmasked horror.
At Table One, Vincent Sterling set his drink down. His face tightened in quiet disgust. He looked at Daniel, shook his head once, and walked away from the table. The other executives immediately followed his lead, heading straight for the exit.
The venue lights snapped back on.
Daniel turned toward me, his hands curled into fists. “You crazy bitch,” he hissed, his voice trembling. “What did you just do?”
“I gave you exactly what you deserve,” I said quietly.
“Do you have any idea what you just did to my career?” he yelled, stepping closer. “You signed the paper, Marianne. You’re legally bound to me. I’m going to take half of your firm.”
“There is nothing to take,” I said softly. “I transferred my assets into an irrevocable trust on Thursday. I own nothing. You married a ghost.”
Daniel froze. The blood drained entirely from his face as the reality of his massive debt finally crashed down on him.
I gripped the diamond ring on my left hand, twisted it over my knuckle, and held it above my water glass. Letting the metal drop into the liquid with a quiet clink, I turned my back on him and walked away.
“Marianne!” Daniel screamed, his voice cracking. “Wait!”
He lunged after me, but his path was instantly blocked.
Two men in dark suits stepped out from the perimeter of the room. Moving with terrifying efficiency, they caught Daniel by the arms and pinned him firmly against the edge of the sweetheart table.
Elias stepped out from behind his security team.
His dark eyes were merciless as he moved into Daniel’s personal space. “The reception is over,” Elias said. “Walk out the front doors right now, or my guys will physically remove you. Choose.”
“This is my wedding!” Daniel spat, struggling against the guards.
“Not anymore,” Elias replied. He turned his head slightly, looking toward Table Two.
Harper sat frozen in her chair, tears streaming down her face. My mother had physically turned her back on her.
“Miss Brooks,” Elias called out sharply. “You’re leaving too. Now.”
Harper let out a sob, grabbing her clutch from the table. She stumbled past the empty chairs, keeping her head down as she ran toward the exit.
Elias nodded at his men. The guards hauled Daniel up, twisted him around, and marched him forcefully down the center aisle.
“Marianne!” Daniel yelled, fighting the grip as they dragged him away.
I pushed through the wooden doors at the back of the reception hall, leaving the screaming and the chaos behind me. As the heavy doors swung shut, cutting off the noise of the main room entirely, I stepped into the cool staff corridor.
I stopped and rested my hand against the cinderblock wall. The suffocating tension in my chest vanished.
The performance was over. I was free.