Chapter 20
COLTON
It took some manoeuvring, but I soon had William and Nikita seated back-to-back on the dance floor, each holding their own shoe in one hand, and their partner’s in the other.
I slowly circled the duo before addressing the lively crowd. “Now, this is called the wedding shoe game! Where you rowdy bunch of drunkards get to ask the newlyweds a question, in which they answer by holding up the shoe of the person who best fits the description… Should we get started?”
The room erupted in boisterous enthusiasm, the atmosphere thick with anticipation.
“Alright,” I said, my voice ringing clear through the speakers. “We’ll start off with an easy one, shall we… Who’s the best cook?”
They both laughed good-naturedly as they each raised Nikita’s shiny white heel. After a couple more generic questions, the guests were well and truly locked in, desperate to join the game, calling out from the sidelines.
I hyped them up, fed into the suspense, and as predicted, they soon spiralled out of control. The party grew extra vocal, emboldened to make more risky requests, which soon created an endless wave of laughter.
The peak of the high was when a curveball was thrown into the mix from none other than my best friend and sidekick.
“Who made the first move?!” Avery called from the back, his face hidden, yet his voice strong enough to carry over everyone else.
I greedily watched the couple’s reaction, clocking the minute hesitation from William before he raised Nikita’s heel once more.
Oh, so he’d been a pussy ass bitch straight from the jump. No surprises there.
I discreetly checked my phone, gladdened to know my backup had arrived. The countdown had finally timed out, and I was more than ready to rewrite the rules of the game to my advantage.
When there was a subtle lull in the overzealous catcalling, I took the opportunity to jump into the fray.
“Who is the most loyal?” I asked.
William and Nikita both looked at me then, one stare filled with wariness, and the other shadowed with confusion. I didn’t think it was that hard a question.
After a beat, they both raised their own shoe, which nearly had me fucking rolling on the floor.
Instead, I shifted my focus to our audience and gave a cheeky wink. “That was a trick question, since they both have none!”
The room erupted into hysterics, not quite processing the subtle cruelty. I was just getting started.
I zeroed in on my target, instincts blaring bright as I unleashed all my resentment and bitterness in one go. That’s when my insinuations turned more sinister, cutting.
“Who’s more likely to stay if the other were to fall terminally ill?”
They both glanced over their shoulders at one another, checking in, which only served to piss me off further.
“Who’s more likely to stay faithful?” I bit out scathingly.
William bristled, and Nikita looked downright furious, yet they powered on with the show like the actors they were, lifting both arms high—the answers false and altogether telling.
“Bzzzzz, wrong! That was also a trick question. Since both of you had a longstanding affair behind my mother’s back, I’d say you equally have a predisposition to infidelity. So, I’d say that’s minus. At least fifty points, right?”
Tense silence followed, jaws literally dropping to the floor as one by one, recognition hit.
William appeared shell-shocked, malfunctioning in his chair as Nikita trembled, closing her eyes tight in what looked like devastation—one could only hope.
Not giving them any reprieve, I blasted them with the next, ensuring my question came through loud and clear.
“Who betrayed my mother the most? William, the husband who was fucking her best friend while she lay in the hospital taking her last breaths? Or is it Nikita, the supposed best friend who patiently waited for the right time to finally claim everything for herself?”
William was dazed, attempting to stand on shaky legs. He didn’t get far, since Avery grasped onto his shoulder to guide him back down.
“You seem unwell,” Avery said. “It would be better if you stayed seated.”
The words were soft, borderline concerned, yet William understood the threat for what it was. His desperate gaze shifted to me, and what he found wasn’t his son. Instead, he was staring at vengeance personified.
I raised the mic to my lips once more. “Answer the question, William… Don’t you remember your former wife? The one you claimed was the love of your life, your Bethy… Who betrayed her more?”
He shook his head, mask bleeding utter ruin as his lips mouthed a soundless apology over and over.
I thought Nikita would be ballsy enough to challenge me, but instead, Jennifer was the one who recovered first. Rising from her chair, she let out an awkward chuckle. “That’s enough, Colton. The game is finished—”
I pointed one solitary finger her way. “Sit your ass down before I expose all your lies, like I’m about to do to your mama.”
Noah piped up then. “Fuck you, asshole. Don’t speak to my girlfriend like that! Who do you think you are?!”
“Me? I think I’m the guy who fucked your girlfriend last night.”
That was the tipping point, the distinct moment when the air crackled in expectation, right before Noah launched his fist towards my face.
Anarchy followed.
Screams reverberated off the walls, scuffles escalated on the fray and heated accusations were thrown at the bride and groom.
I welcomed the mayhem, my heart soaring from the tattered ruins of my father’s wedding, knowing each person present would remember this night forevermore.
“You will pay for this, Colton Richards,” Nikita spat, her face reddened and blotchy. “Come on, William. We’re leaving.”
“Great timing, Stepmother. Your ride just pulled up,” I said, gesturing towards the main doors.
“What the hell are you—”
Her speech cut off as two police officers entered the venue, closely followed by my lawyer, Thomas. They beelined for us, ignoring the jeering patrons as they passed.
“Nikita Volt?”
“Richards. Nikita Richards.”
“Nikita Richards, place your hands behind your back. You’re under arrest—”
“No. No! It’s my wedding day!”
That’s when the bride surprised the hell out of everyone and decided to take her chances on her own. She bolted. The old bitch was speedy for her age, too.
Still, the police took chase, tackling her to the ground, white tulle and all.
It was the perfect conclusion for a horrendous day.
Nikita kicked and shouted. William tried and failed to placate the cops. And I stood there in the centre of it all, luxuriating in their despair and downfall.
Avery soon came to settle beside me, two full beers in hand. I took the one he offered and clinked my glass against his.
“How does it feel?” he asked, sipping from the bottle.
“Like I’ve finally returned home.”