Chapter 3 - The Broken Wedding
By eight o'clock the following morning, the Grand St. Regis Hotel should have been a hive of joyous activity.
The grand ballroom had been decorated with two hundred thousand dollars worth of white orchids, crystal chandeliers had been polished to a brilliant shine, and a twenty-piece orchestra was rehearsing softly in the foyer. Outside, news vans from three major television networks were parked along the boulevard, ready to cover the high-society wedding of Raymond Palmer and Giselle Vance.
Instead, the lobby was a battleground of chaos, confusion, and whispers.
At 8:30 AM, the news broke across every local station and social media feed: GISELLE VANCE ARRESTED ON THE EVE OF HER WEDDING FOR AGGRAVATED ASSAULT.
A mugshot of Giselle—her hair disheveled, makeup smeared, wearing a gray jail jumpsuit instead of her white silk gown—was broadcast across the morning news. The caption beneath her face read: HEIRESS HELD WITHOUT BAIL IN PARKING GARAGE ATTACK ON PREGNANT WOMAN.
Inside the private bridal suite on the top floor of the St. Regis, Marcus Vance—Giselle’s father and the CEO of Vance Global Logistics—was pacing like a caged tiger. He was a ruthless, powerful man in his late sixties, with iron-gray hair and an expression that could wither a board of directors in seconds.
"Where is he?!" Marcus roared, slamming his heavy fist onto a marble vanity table, shattering a crystal perfume bottle. "Where is that pathetic coward Palmer?!"
Standing near the window, looking pale and completely drained, was Raymond’s mother, Eleanor Palmer. She was holding a phone to her ear, her hands shaking violently.
"He's not answering his phone, Marcus," Eleanor stammered, her voice laced with panic. "His car was seen outside the hospital at six this morning, but he vanished after that!"
"His bride is sitting in a county jail cell!" Marcus thundered, pointing a finger at Eleanor’s face. "The press is tearing my family’s name to shreds! The stock price of Vance Logistics dropped four percent at the opening bell! And your son is hiding in some hole?!"
The door to the bridal suite pushed open slowly.
Raymond walked in.
He was still wearing the same charcoal suit from the night before, but it was now wrinkled, stained with rain, and missing a button. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw covered in dark stubble, and his hands were tucked deep into his pockets. He looked ten years older than he had twenty-four hours ago.
Marcus stormed across the room, grabbing Raymond by the lapels of his jacket and slamming him back against the wooden door frame.
"Where the hell have you been?!" Marcus spat, his face inches from Raymond’s. "Get your lawyers on the phone! Get Giselle out of that jail, and get ready to face the press! We have a crisis to manage!"
Raymond didn't fight back. He didn't even pull Marcus’s hands off his chest. He just looked at his former father-in-law-to-be with hollow, lifeless eyes.
"There is no wedding, Marcus," Raymond said flatly.
Marcus froze, his grip loosening slightly. "What did you say?"
"The wedding is canceled," Raymond repeated, his voice devoid of any emotion. "Tell the caterers. Tell the guests. Tell the news vans."
"Have you lost your mind?!" Eleanor gasped, stepping forward and grabbing her son's arm. "Raymond! The Vance family is our biggest commercial partner! If this wedding falls through, the merger collapses! Our firm will be bankrupt by the end of the quarter!"
Raymond looked at his mother, a bitter, hollow laugh escaping his lips. "Bankrupt? Mother... Giselle pushed Serena. She pushed a woman who was eight months pregnant onto concrete, and she left her there to bleed."
"I don't care if she pushed her off a cliff!" Marcus roared, grabbing Raymond again. "Giselle is my daughter! She made a mistake! We buy off the ex-wife, we pay for the medical bills, we sign a non-disclosure agreement, and we clean this up!"
Raymond looked at Marcus’s furious face, and for the first time in his life, he felt a profound, sickening disgust for the world he had sacrificed everything to belong to.
"You can't buy her off, Marcus," Raymond said quietly. "Serena isn't taking your money. And the hospital already gave the security tape to the District Attorney."
Raymond pulled himself free from Marcus’s grip. He looked at his mother one last time.
"My son is in the NICU," Raymond said, his voice cracking slightly. "He weighs three pounds. He's fighting to stay alive right now because of the woman you wanted me to marry."
"Your son?" Eleanor scoffed, her voice laced with pure disdain. "That child was born out of wedlock to a woman who no longer matters! You have a responsibility to this family, Raymond!"
Raymond looked at his mother, realizing with terrible clarity that he had turned into a monster just like her. He had abandoned a loyal, loving wife for money, status, and the approval of people who saw human life as nothing more than a line item on a ledger.
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"No," Raymond said softly. "Serena was right. I don't belong anywhere near him."
Without another word, Raymond turned around, pulled the door open, and walked out of the suite, leaving Marcus Vance’s screams echoing down the empty carpeted hallway behind him.
