Sitting alone on the edge of the abandoned orchestra stage was Chloe. Her veil was torn, her white gown wrinkled and stained with gray dust from the floor. Her mother sat two tables away, weeping quietly into a cloth napkin.
At the head table, Brandon sat with his head buried in his hands.
Arthur Pendelton stood by the entrance doors, accompanied by two hotel finance officers holding a mobile payment terminal.
"Mr. Vance," Arthur said firmly. "If the $28,000 balance is not settled by midnight, hotel legal counsel will file an immediate civil lien against your personal assets and lodge a criminal complaint for theft of services."
Brandon pulled his head up. His eyes were red, his silk bow tie untied and hanging loose around his collar.
He stood up slowly, walked past his sobbing bride without offering a single word or gesture of comfort, and walked out into the cool night air of 5th Avenue.
Chapter 8: The Westchester Estate
Thirty miles north in the quiet suburb of Westchester, the sun was beginning to rise over the rolling green lawns of the Vance estate.