Chapter 8 - The Engagement Party Fallout
On Friday evening, I was leaving my apartment complex to grab groceries when a black SUV blocked the driveway. Mark, Chloe’s fiancé, stepped out. He was a tall, arrogant man who worked in "crypto consulting"—which, as far as I could tell, meant losing his parents' money on digital tokens. He looked furious, his face flushed red.
"You're a real piece of work, Elena," he snarled, marching toward me. "Do you have any idea what you've done? The vineyard cancelled our reservation! Victoria sent an email to our entire guest list saying the event was postponed due to non-payment!"
I took a step back, keeping my hand inside my coat pocket where my phone was already recording video. "You should ask your fiancée why she tried to pay for your wedding with a stolen card, Mark."
"It’s family money!" he shouted, stepping into my personal space. "Chloe said her parents promised her a forty-thousand-dollar wedding, and that you were holding the funds! Now my parents are asking questions, my friends are laughing at us, and Chloe hasn't stopped crying for two days! You’re going to call the venue right now and pay the deposit, or I’ll make sure everyone knows what a backstabbing bitch you are."
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"Mark," I said calmly, looking him dead in the eye. "If you don't step away from me in three seconds, I am calling the police and adding you to the active restraining order order currently being drafted against Chloe. And just so you know—I checked your name against our financial database. Your car is three months behind on payments. You shouldn't be worrying about a vineyard wedding; you should be worrying about the repo man."
His jaw dropped. He stammered, turning pale, before turning on his heel and speeding away in his SUV.
