CHAPTER 3: FIFTEEN MINUTES
CHAPTER 3: FIFTEEN MINUTES
Margaret noticed the phone immediately.
“What are you doing?” she snapped.
I didn’t answer.
My daughter flinched at her voice. I pulled her closer.
My husband scoffed.
“Calling your sister?” he said. “Your lawyer friend? This is a wedding, not a courtroom.”
I looked up at him.
“It’s about to become both.”
A few guests shifted uncomfortably. Someone turned off their recording. Someone else didn’t.
Margaret laughed under her breath.
“You think anyone here will take your side?” she said. “Look at you. Always dramatic. Always—”
The doors at the far end of the ballroom opened.
Not slowly.
Not politely.
They were pushed open like urgency had hands.
A man in a dark suit entered first.
Then two more behind him.
No hotel staff.
No guests.
My husband noticed immediately.
His posture changed.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
The first man didn’t look at him.
He looked at me.
“Ms. Carter,” he said respectfully. “We received your call.”
Margaret’s expression tightened for the first time.
My husband frowned.
“Carter?” he repeated.
The lead man stepped forward, holding a slim folder.
“Internal compliance division,” he said calmly. “We’ve been monitoring certain financial discrepancies tied to this venue.”
That word landed differently in the room.
Discrepancies.
Guests started whispering again—but not about me anymore.
Margaret’s smile faded slightly.
“That’s impossible,” she said quickly. “This is a private event.”
May you like
The man finally turned his gaze toward her.
“I’m afraid it’s not as private as you think.”
