Chapter 4: The Groom Who Tried to Run
Preston Vale was halfway across the ballroom when Adrian Bennett called his name.
“Preston. Stop.””
The command wasn't loud, but it cut through the room with enough authority to make several guests turn.
Preston kept walking.
His white dinner jacket caught the chandelier light as he pushed between two tables, nearly colliding with a waiter carrying a tray of champagne.
“Preston!”” Victoria shouted.
He didn't look back.
For a moment, I watched my sister stand beside the table where Adrian had placed the document. Her wedding gown pooled around her feet, and the diamonds at her ears trembled as she turned her head toward her new husband.
Only minutes earlier, she had been laughing at me.
Now she looked as though the floor beneath her had disappeared.
“What's happening?”” she demanded.
Adrian remained composed.
“That's a question your husband should answer.””
Victoria hurried after Preston, lifting the front of her gown to keep from tripping.
My mother followed her.
My father hesitated beside me, staring at the document as though he could somehow read its contents from across the table.
Then he turned toward me.
“Olivia, what have you done?””
I looked at him in disbelief.
“What have I done?””
“You're involved in this investigation, aren't you?””
“Yes.””
“And you never thought to tell us?””
“Tell you what? That my firm was conducting a confidential investigation into Carrington Capital?””
His jaw tightened.
“We're your family.””
I almost asked him when that fact had last mattered to him.
Instead, I kept my voice even.
“The engagement is confidential. I'm not permitted to discuss its details.””
He looked offended.
“You could have told us something.””
“You never asked about my business.””
“That isn't the point.””
“No,” I said quietly.
“It never is.””
He stared at me for another second before turning toward the commotion near the ballroom doors.
I followed at a distance.
Preston had stopped beside the entrance, where two hotel employees stood uncertainly. Adrian was approaching him, carrying the document from the table.
Victoria had caught up with her husband.
She grabbed his sleeve.
“Preston, what is he talking about?””
He pulled his arm away.
“Not now.””
“Not now?”” Her voice rose.
“You just tried to leave our wedding!””
“Victoria, stop making a scene.””
She stared at him.
The irony of that accusation seemed to strike her, but she was too frightened to acknowledge it.
“This is about an account in your name,” she whispered.
“What account?””
Preston looked toward Adrian.
Then he looked at me.
For a fraction of a second, his expression changed.
Recognition.
Not the professional recognition Adrian had shown me earlier.
Something sharper.
Something that suggested Preston understood precisely who I was and what my firm might have discovered.
“You,” he said.
I held his gaze.
“Me?””
“You're the accountant.””
“I'm the owner of a forensic accounting firm.””
His mouth tightened.
“Whatever you call yourself.””
Adrian stepped between us.
“Preston, I suggest you choose your next words carefully.””
Preston gave a short, humorless laugh.
“Are you threatening me?””
“No. I'm reminding you that this is a formal investigation, and your attempt to leave immediately after hearing about an account connected to you will be documented.””
A few guests had gathered nearby.
Some were openly staring now.
Others held their phones at chest level, pretending to check messages while watching every movement.
Preston noticed.
His expression changed again, and I could practically see him rebuilding his public persona.
He straightened his jacket.
He smiled at the hotel employees.
Then he turned toward the guests.
“I'm sorry for the confusion,” he announced.
“This is a private business matter, and Mr. Bennett has chosen an unfortunate time to bring it up.””
Adrian didn't react.
“Then you'll have no objection to answering questions privately tomorrow morning.””
“Of course not.””
“Eight o'clock. Carrington Capital's headquarters.””
Preston hesitated.
It lasted less than a second.
But I saw it.
“I have a flight early tomorrow.””
“Cancel it.””
“You can't dictate my schedule.””
“No,” Adrian replied.
“But I can determine whether Carrington Capital continues doing business with you or any company associated with you.””
Preston's smile vanished.
Victoria looked between them.
“What does Carrington Capital have to do with Preston?””
Nobody answered immediately.
Then Adrian turned toward her.
“That depends on what your husband has been doing with money connected to our property investment division.””
Victoria shook her head.
“This is ridiculous. Preston runs his own investment firm. He doesn't work for Carrington.””
“Correct.””
“Then you have no authority over him.””
“I didn't say I did.””
Adrian tapped the document.
“But if funds were diverted from a Carrington-managed project into an account connected to his business, that is a matter for our auditors and legal counsel.””
My mother reached Victoria's side and placed a protective arm around her.
“This is a wedding,” she insisted.
“Whatever mistake has been made, surely it can be handled discreetly.””
Adrian looked at her.
“Mrs. Hayes, the appropriate time to handle financial irregularities was when they occurred.””
My mother flushed.
Preston seized the opening.
“Exactly. And since we're discussing irregularities, perhaps Mr. Bennett should explain why his company has allowed questionable transactions to continue for so long.””
It was an obvious attempt to redirect the conversation.
Adrian seemed unimpressed.
“That's one of the reasons we're conducting the investigation.””
“And you're blaming me before you've even asked for an explanation?””
“No one has declared you responsible for anything tonight. I said we found an account in your name.””
“Then perhaps you should stop making insinuations.””
“I haven't made an insinuation. I've stated a fact.””
Preston looked around the room.
His audience was growing.
For the first time, I understood why he had tried to leave.
It wasn't necessarily because he knew he was guilty.
It was because he had lost control of the story.
People who thrive on appearances often become desperate when someone introduces a fact they cannot immediately explain away.
I knew that desperation.
I had seen it in my former supervisor eight years earlier.
I had seen it in Victoria whenever I challenged her version of events.
And I was seeing it now in a man whose entire wedding seemed designed to advertise his success.
Preston turned to Victoria.
“Get your mother and father. We're leaving.””
Victoria stared at him.
“But the reception—”
“Now.””
She flinched at his tone.
My father stepped forward.
“You will not speak to my daughter like that.””
Preston looked at him with open contempt.
“Then perhaps you should teach your daughter to keep her family's private matters out of public conversations.””
He gestured toward me.
Victoria followed his gaze.
For a second, I thought she might join him in blaming me.
It was what she had always done when she felt cornered.
Instead, she looked at the document in Adrian's hand.
“Preston,” she whispered, “what is the account?””
He didn't answer.
She reached for his wrist.
“Tell me.””
He pulled away.
“Not here.””
“Then where?””
“Somewhere private!””
His voice cracked through the ballroom.
The guests fell silent again.
Victoria stared at him as if she had never seen him before.
And perhaps she hadn't.
Perhaps the man she had married was just as carefully constructed as the image she had spent years building for herself.
Adrian folded the document and returned it to the envelope.
“The meeting is at eight,” he said.
“If you choose not to attend, our legal team will proceed through the appropriate channels.””
Preston's face hardened.
“You'll regret this.””
“That's possible,” Adrian replied.
“But it won't change the records.””
For several seconds, the two men stared at each other.
Then Preston turned and walked toward the ballroom doors.
This time, Victoria didn't follow immediately.
She stood in the middle of her wedding reception, surrounded by white roses, expensive champagne, and guests who were beginning to whisper.
Her eyes found mine.
“You knew,” she said.
I shook my head.
“I knew we were investigating suspicious transactions. I didn't know the account was connected to Preston until tonight.””
“You expect me to believe that?””
“I don't expect you to believe anything.””
Her face twisted.
“You've ruined everything.””
I looked at her wedding gown.
At the flowers.
At the crystal chandeliers.
At the life she had worked so hard to make everyone admire.
“No, Victoria,” I said.
“I didn't create whatever is in those records.””
Then I walked away.
May you like
Behind me, my sister began to cry.
And for the first time in my life, I didn't turn around to comfort her.
