Chapter 11 - CRASHING THE RECEPTION
The grand ballroom doors burst open.
Two hundred wedding guests turned around in absolute shock.
Sarah and I stood in the doorway.
Our hair was wild.
Our dresses were torn and stained with mud and raspberry coulis.
“Someone call the police!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.
“Victoria Vance hired hitmen to murder the bride’s father!”
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Guests scrambled backward in terror.
Before anyone could process the chaos, Victoria marched through the side doors, flanked by her two masked enforcers.
Her facade of untouchable elegance was completely shattered.
Her hair was messy, her eyes wild with murderous intent.
“Grab them!” Victoria screeched, pointing a shaking finger at us.
“They’re insane! They’ve lost their minds!”
The two masked men charged across the polished floor toward us.
Guests screamed and scattered in every direction.
“Not so fast, Victoria,” a deep, steady voice echoed from the stage microphones.
Every head snapped toward the altar.
Michael stood there.
Holding a microphone in his hand.
May you like
A white bandage was taped securely across his forehead, but his eyes were blazing with absolute rage.
He had regained consciousness, slipped out through the service elevator, and taken control of the sound system.
