Chapter 3 - The Cowardice of the Groom
The red and blue flash of police cruisers painted the white orchids and crystal chandeliers in erratic, haunting patterns.
Four local sheriff’s deputies, led by a stern-faced lieutenant, marched into the ballroom, parting the sea of terrified wedding guests like a wedge. Behind them came two paramedics carrying a trauma kit and a stretcher.
"Special Agent Vance," the lieutenant saluted sharply as he approached Liam. "Dispatch flagged your secure federal identifier. We’ve secured the perimeter and locked down the service gates. Nobody gets in or out."
"Good," Liam said, gesturing toward the buffet area where I was slowly being lifted onto the gurney. "Secure the glass on that table. The residue inside is a synthesized insulin-inhibiting neurotoxin mixed with high-potency alcohol. It was administered forcibly to the victim."
Lieutenant Miller nodded, casting a severe glare across the room before locking his eyes on Evelyn. "Evelyn Thorne-Blackwood, I am placing you under arrest for aggravated assault and attempted poisoning."
"This is completely absurd!" Evelyn shrieked as two deputies stepped forward, taking her firmly by both arms. Her designer bracelet snapped, scattering diamonds across the floor as they forced her wrists behind her back. "Julian! Grant! Are you going to let these country bumpkins put your mother in chains? Do something!"
Julian looked paralyzed. He glanced at his bride, then at his mother, and finally at the flashing lights outside. His political ambitions, his corporate board seats, and his pristine social standing were evaporating before his eyes, and all he could muster was a pathetic, defensive whine.
"Mom, just—just cooperate with them," Julian stammered, avoiding her furious gaze. "We’ll get you the best lawyers in the city by nightfall. Just don't make a scene here."
Evelyn stared at her eldest son as if he had plunged a knife into her back. "You cowardly little fool," she hissed. "I built this family's empire on my back, and you won't even lift a finger to defend me?"
As the deputies hauled her toward the exit, her eyes locked onto me as I lay on the stretcher. Her expression wasn't one of remorse; it was a dark, venomous hatred that promised absolute destruction the moment she walked free.
"This isn't over, you ungrateful little parasite," she snarled before the heavy oak doors slammed shut behind her.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Chloe stood beneath the altar archway of imported lilies, her twenty-thousand-dollar wedding gown looking less like a symbol of romance and more like a straitjacket. Her makeup was slightly smeared, and her eyes darted nervously between the empty aisle and Julian, who looked like a stranger.
"Chloe," I croaked from the gurney, my voice weak. "Chloe, let's go. Get out of here."
My sister looked at me, her lower lip trembling. For a second, I thought she might finally cross the room, take my hand, and walk out of this toxic nightmare with me.
Instead, she turned her head away.
"We... we still have guests to attend to," Chloe whispered to Julian, her voice hollow. "The reception is paid for. We can't just cancel everything."
My heart broke a second time—not from the poison, and not from Evelyn’s cruelty, but from the realization that my own flesh and blood valued a catered party over my life.
Liam, who had been supervising the collection of the evidence bag by federal forensic technicians, turned back to the gurney. He looked at Chloe and Julian with undisguised disgust, then looked down at me.
May you like
"Are you ready, Elena?" he asked softly, his tone completely shifting to one of gentle concern. "The ambulance is waiting outside. I'm riding with you to the hospital."
"Thank you," I whispered, closing my eyes as the paramedics began wheeling me out of Bellefleur Manor, leaving the glittering ruins of the Blackwood wedding behind us.
