Chapter 5 - A Family Divided
The air in the hallway grew thick with palpable hostility as Sarah refused to budge an inch, standing like a sentinel between Marcus and the white double doors. Behind her, Sophie instinctively grabbed the fabric of Sarah’s gown again, hiding her face against her aunt’s side.
“I don't care who you are or what papers you think my brother is signing,” Sarah said, her voice shaking with righteous fury. “You and your sister are con artists, and I promise you right now, this wedding is not happening.”
Marcus’s polite facade slipped for a fraction of a second, revealing a flash of genuine irritation before he quickly plastered the smug smirk back onto his face.
“You’re barking up the wrong tree, little missy,” Marcus said, shifting his leather briefcase to his other hand. “Daniel is a weak man living in the past. He wants to secure a mother figure for that brat of his, and Elena was more than willing to play the part for the right price. Business is business. Don’t take it personally.”
Before Sarah could reply with the scathing retort burning on the tip of her tongue, the heavy double doors of the bridal suite clicked and slowly swung open.
Daniel stood in the doorway. His face was pale, his jaw set in a rigid line, and his eyes were entirely devoid of the warmth his family knew so well. He looked at Sarah, then down at Sophie, and finally let his cold gaze rest on Marcus standing a few feet away.
“Marcus,” Daniel said, his voice terrifyingly calm. “Step inside.”
Marcus tossed a triumphant glance at Sarah, stepped past her with an arrogant swagger, and walked into the bridal suite, letting the heavy doors shut firmly behind him.
Sarah rushed to the door, pressing her ear against the wood, desperate to catch every word of the confrontation unfolding inside. Sophie whimpered softly, grabbing Sarah’s hand.
Inside the brightly lit suite, Elena was standing by the vanity, reapplying her lipstick with remarkably steady hands, considering the explosive argument that had just taken place. Marcus walked over to the coffee table, picked up the manila folder, and flipped it open with an expert flick of his wrist.
“Well, Daniel?” Marcus asked, pulling a gold-plated fountain pen from his inner jacket pocket and extending it toward his future brother-in-law. “Are we ready to make this official, or do we need to discuss your father’s legacy a little longer?”
Daniel stared at the pen, his hand hovering inches away from the gleaming metal. The room was silent save for the hum of the air conditioner and the distant strains of string quartet music drifting up from the wedding chapel downstairs, signaling that the guests were waiting for a ceremony that was spiraling completely out of control.
“I have one condition before I sign anything,” Daniel said slowly, his voice cutting through the quiet room like ice.
Elena stopped applying her lipstick and turned around slowly, narrowing her eyes. “What kind of condition? We agreed on the terms.”
“My condition,” Daniel said, his lips curling into a grim, humorless smile, “is that we call the police right now and let them verify the authenticity of this property transfer deed.”
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Marcus’s fountain pen slipped from his fingers, clattering loudly against the glass-topped coffee table as the color vanished entirely from his face.
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