Chapter 2 - The Wedding Crashers
It was 2:00 PM on Saturday. The wedding of the year was about to begin at the country club. Chloe had spared no expense—a fifty-thousand-dollar floral budget, a string quartet, and three hundred guests waiting for her grand entrance.
I was not there. I was lying in a hospital bed with a neck brace and a heavily bandaged head. But Officer Jenkins was there.
Through a combination of witness statements taken from the venue staff—who had seen the altercation but were too afraid of Uncle David’s money to speak up until the police arrived—and the severity of my medical report, a warrant had been fast-tracked.
Later that evening, the nurses let me watch the local news. A guest had live-streamed the chaos, and it had already gone viral.
The video showed Chloe at the altar, looking like an absolute vision in a custom silk gown. The priest had just asked, "If anyone objects to this union..."
That was when the heavy oak doors of the sanctuary burst open. Four uniformed police officers marched down the aisle, their boots echoing over the horrified gasps of the elite crowd.
"Chloe Vance," Officer Jenkins' voice boomed through the silent church. "You are under arrest for aggravated assault and reckless endangerment."
Chloe’s perfect face twisted into a mask of ugly, feral panic. "What? No! Get away from me! Liam, do something! My dad owns half this town!"
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Uncle David charged the officers, screaming about lawsuits and ruined reputations, but he was swiftly pushed back by a deputy. Liam, the groom, didn't move. He stood frozen at the altar, watching as the police clamped handcuffs over Chloe’s wrists, crumpling the delicate lace of her sleeves.
She was dragged down the aisle she had meticulously planned to walk down in triumph, screaming my name like a curse.
