Chapter 4 - The Man in the Cell
The man on the projector screen blinked against the harsh, amber glare of an overhead bulb. His lips, dry and cracked, parted as he spoke, his voice sounding like dry paper rubbing together.
Hello, Julian, the man on the screen rasped. I told you that debt would eventually follow you to the altar.
Julian stood paralyzed, his knees locked, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen. The banquet hall was dead silent now; even the whispered gossip had died out, replaced by a suffocating dread that hung in the air like fog. The guests sat frozen, realizing they were unwilling witnesses to a terrifying public reckoning.
Maya walked quietly away from Julian and Elena, retreating a few steps to stand beside a towering floral arrangement. She placed her hands neatly behind her back, her yellow cardigan bright against the muted tones of the room. She watched Julian with the detached curiosity of a child observing a strange insect.
Elena was still kneeling on the floor, her hands clutching the hem of her white wedding dress as if it could shield her from the unfolding nightmare. Her breathing came in short, ragged gasps, her chest rising and falling beneath the strapless bodice.
I didn't do this, Elena whispered to the polished floorboards, her voice breaking into a sob. Julian, please believe me. I never knew Arthur was alive.
Julian slowly turned his head to look down at her. His expression was no longer one of shock, but of a cold, calculated fury that was far more frightening. He reached down, grabbed Elena by her bare elbow, and hauled her to her feet with rough, unceremonious force.
You didn't know? Julian’s voice was venomous, barely above a whisper, yet it carried across the entire silent hall. You brought his daughter into our wedding, Elena. You handed her the microphone.
Elena gasped, her eyes flying wide in sheer terror as she stared at her new husband. She stumbled against him, her manicured fingers gripping his tuxedo lapel.
Maya isn't... she isn't Arthur’s daughter, Elena stammered, her words tumbling over one another in her panic. She’s... she’s my sister’s child! I swear to God!
Maya tilted her head slightly, her dark eyes narrowing just a fraction as she listened to Elena’s desperate lie.
My mom is Arthur’s wife, Maya said clearly into the empty air, her small voice cutting through the tension like a razor blade.
The revelation hit Julian like a physical blow. He released Elena’s arm as if she carried a plague, stumbling backward until his back hit the edge of the head table. The cutlery rattled against the porcelain plates.
Before Julian could demand another explanation, the video on the screen changed again. The bound man in the stone room leaned forward, a grim smile touching the corners of his bruised mouth as he looked past the camera lens.
Look behind you, Julian, Arthur whispered from the speakers. She just arrived.
May you like
Julian whipped his head around toward the grand double doors at the back of the banquet hall.
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