"This is Evelyn Vance," she said into the phone. Her voice was calm, clear, and carried a tone of absolute, unshakeable authority that had commanded boardroom meetings for thirty years. "Cancel every wedding service immediately."
Chloe gasped, taking a step forward. "What did you just say?"
"I said cancel everything," Evelyn repeated into the receiver, her eyes fixed cold and unwavering on the bride. "The catering, the floral staff, the lighting team, the open bar, and the eight-piece string orchestra. Terminate the master guarantee account right now."
She disconnected the call, slid her phone back into her silver clutch, and pulled her burgundy jacket straight.
"Mom, stop playing games!" Brandon snapped, stepping forward to grab her arm. "You can't just cancel things! The wedding is already happening!"
"The wedding ceremony is over, Brandon," Evelyn said softly, stepping back from his reach. "You are married. But the celebration... is mine."
She turned on her heel and walked toward the grand double doors of the ballroom, her heels clicking rhythmically against the polished marble perimeter floor.