Chapter 2
The moment the SUV door closed, my father reached for my hand.
"Marcus, look at me."
I couldn't.
My eyes were burning.
My chest felt as though somebody had crushed it.
Outside, rain struck the windows.
Inside, the vehicle was silent.
Dad squeezed my fingers.
"Son."
I finally turned.
His eyes were wet.
"I'm sorry."
I stared at him.
"For what?"
"For what happened at your wedding."
I shook my head.
"Dad, you didn't do anything wrong."
He looked toward the rain.
"I didn't want to embarrass you."
Those words nearly destroyed me.
I leaned forward.
"Embarrass me?"
My voice broke.
"You were the only person in that room I was proud of."
He closed his eyes.
I continued.
"She threw Mom's gift onto a table."
Dad nodded.
"And Nia laughed."
My throat tightened.
"She laughed at you."
For several moments, neither of us spoke.
Then Dad whispered, "I saw."
I covered my face.
The security driver lowered the privacy divider.
I was grateful.
I didn't want strangers watching me fall apart.
Dad placed his hand on my shoulder.
"You loved Nia."
I nodded.
"I still do."
The admission hurt.
I loved the woman I believed she was.
But I couldn't forget what I'd seen.
Dad sighed.
"Then don't decide the rest of your life tonight."
I looked at him.
"What?"
"You're hurt. You're angry. You've just experienced something terrible."
He squeezed my shoulder.
"Give yourself enough time to make a clear decision."
I stared at him.
Even after being humiliated, he was thinking about protecting me from acting recklessly.
I nodded.
"Okay."
Then I remembered his words outside.
"Dad, what did you mean about canceling everything your company paid for?"
He looked toward the driver.
Then back at me.
"That's why the board wants me."
I frowned.
"What board?"
Dad gave me a sad smile.
"Bennett Holdings."
I knew the name.
It was the investment group my father had built decades earlier.
But I didn't know how large it had become.
Dad never discussed specific numbers.
He described himself as a businessman who'd been fortunate.
He wore old suits.
Worked in a modest office.
And preferred Sunday church services to expensive parties.
I looked at him.
"Dad, what exactly is happening?"
He took a breath.
"Your wedding vendors are connected to a hospitality group my company recently acquired."
I stared.
"What?"
"The ballroom. The catering company. The transportation service."
He paused.
"They're all businesses within the Bennett Hospitality portfolio."
I couldn't speak.
Dad continued.
"I arranged for the wedding expenses through the company as a private family celebration."
My stomach tightened.
"How much?"
He hesitated.
"Nearly four hundred thousand dollars."
I stared at him.
Four hundred thousand.
Dad noticed my expression.
"Marcus, I didn't tell you because I didn't want money to become the center of your wedding."
I rubbed my forehead.
"Does Nia know?"
"No."
"And Evelyn?"
Dad shook his head.
"She assumed her family's planning committee handled the arrangements."
My heart sank.
Then I asked, "Can you really cancel everything tomorrow?"
Dad sighed.
"Not services already delivered."
I nodded.
"Of course."
"But there are additional events, reservations, and contractual benefits scheduled for the coming week."
He looked at me.
"Those can be reviewed under their agreements."
I stared out the window.
Nia and her mother had humiliated him while enjoying a celebration he had financed.
The cruelty seemed almost impossible.
Then Dad said something unexpected.
"Marcus, I don't want the staff punished."
I turned.
"What?"
"The servers didn't humiliate me."
He shook his head.
"The musicians didn't insult me."
I nodded slowly.
"And the employees deserve to be paid for their work."
My eyes filled with tears.
That was my father.
Even when angry, he refused to hurt people who had done nothing wrong.
We arrived at a private office building in downtown Atlanta.
The security men escorted us upstairs.
A conference room was waiting.
Five executives sat around a polished table.
When Dad entered, they stood.
"Mr. Bennett."
He nodded.
"Please sit."
I remained beside him.
One executive approached.
"Sir, we received the incident report."
Dad took off his damp jacket.
"Thank you, Daniel."
The man looked at me.
"Marcus, I'm sorry about what happened."
I nodded.
"Thank you."
Dad sat at the head of the table.
I took the chair beside him.
Then Daniel opened a folder.
"The remaining wedding-related reservations total approximately one hundred and sixty thousand dollars."
My stomach tightened.
Dad nodded.
"Which services can be canceled without affecting employees or existing guest obligations?"
Daniel began explaining.
The post-wedding brunch.
A luxury honeymoon package.
Private transportation.
A scheduled family celebration at one of the company's resorts.
Several optional hospitality services.
Dad listened carefully.
Then spoke.
"Cancel the discretionary services where the contracts permit it."
Daniel nodded.
"Understood."
"Pay all staff who were scheduled."
Another nod.
"And honor legitimate vendor obligations."
I looked at him.
Dad continued.
"Nobody loses wages because someone behaved badly toward me."
My throat tightened.
Then Daniel hesitated.
"Sir, there's something else."
Dad looked up.
"What?"
"The planning department received unusual requests from Evelyn Carter."
My stomach tightened.
Nia's mother.
Dad frowned.
"What requests?"
Daniel slid several documents across the table.
I leaned forward.
One concerned an additional payment authorization.
Another requested an upgraded honeymoon package.
A third involved a private family account.
Dad studied the papers.
"Who approved these?"
Daniel shook his head.
"Some were submitted but never approved."
I noticed something strange.
The documents listed Bennett Holdings as the responsible payer.
But the requested benefits weren't for me.
They were for Evelyn and several relatives.
My stomach turned.
"Dad, did you authorize any of this?"
He shook his head.
"No."
Daniel continued.
"There's also a request for a one-million-dollar advance."
The room went silent.
I stared.
"One million dollars?"
Daniel nodded.
"Submitted as a proposed family investment."
I looked at Dad.
His expression had changed.
For the first time that night, he looked genuinely concerned.
"Who submitted it?"
Daniel took a breath.
"An investment company connected to Evelyn Carter."
My heart pounded.
Then he placed another page on the table.
A signature appeared near the bottom.
MARCUS BENNETT.
I stared at it.
My stomach dropped.
Because I had never signed that document.
May you like
And suddenly, I realized Evelyn hadn't simply been insulting my father.
She had been trying to use my name to reach his money.
