Chapter 4
I looked at my phone screen. Margaret sent me a video from the scene.
The video was a bit shaky, but the audio was unusually clear.
I could hear the guests' shocked gasps and their excited gossip.
The endless sound of camera shutters snapping filled the air.
Reporters' voices rose with excitement as they fired off questions.
"Mr. Prescott, is the recording authentic?"
"Mr. Prescott, what's going on between you and the bridesmaid, Ms. Ashford?"
"Why isn't the bride here today? Was she aware of everything beforehand?"
Jonathan was standing up there on stage like a naked statue, letting all those contemptuous, mocking, and gleeful stares rip him apart.
His face went from very pale to livid, then finally flushed bright red.
Jonathan opened his mouth, ready to explain. But with all that undeniable evidence, anything he said would sound hollow.
Suddenly, the camera swung around. It focused on the backstage area.
Two uniformed security guards were escorting a woman in a wedding dress out of the venue.
No, they were dragging her.
Victoria's veil was crooked, and her delicate makeup was ruined by tears.
The white hem of her wedding dress trailed along the floor, stained with mud and bits of grass.
She looked like an abandoned, battered rag doll.
She was crying incoherently, "N-No, it's not like that. Jonathan, help me! Jonathan!"
But the man she once called out to so desperately for love didn't even spare her a single glance.
Jonathan locked his eyes on his father, Soren, the man who ran everything in the Prescott family.
Soren slowly walked up to the stage and took the microphone from Jonathan's hand.
There was no anger, no shouting. His voice was eerily calm. "Ladies and gentlemen, members of the media, sorry for today's mess. This is a scandal for the Prescott family, and it's my failure for not keeping my son under control."
He bowed deeply to everyone present. "On behalf of the Prescott family, I extend my deepest apologies to Ms. Whitmore and her family for everything they've been through because of this. This farce ends here.
"The Prescott family will give a proper explanation to the Whitmore family and to the public."
With that, he switched off the microphone.
Soren turned to face his son. His gaze was cold and emotionless. It was like he was looking at worthless junk.
"Get him out of here, too," Soren ordered the bodyguards behind him. "Until this mess is sorted out, he's not allowed to step outside the Prescott mansion without my say-so."
Jonathan felt like every ounce of strength had been sucked out of him.
Jonathan wanted to resist, but under his father's cold gaze, he couldn't utter a single word.
And so, with all eyes on him, Jonathan was marched out by his father, treated like a criminal in front of everyone.
The grand wedding, a union that had everyone's attention, ended in utter humiliation and farce in the end.
I turned off the video and threw my phone aside. There was no thrill of revenge. I felt a hollow calm.
This was the appetizer for Jonathan.
He owed my father and me. I would make him pay it all back with interest.
My phone rang again. It was Margaret.
Her voice was practically buzzing with excitement. "Babe, did you catch that? It was insane. Seriously, this is the show of the year.
"When Victoria got tossed out, her wedding dress was ripped to pieces. She looked totally out of it as she sprawled at the hotel entrance. Reporters were all over her, snapping pictures like crazy.
"Jonathan's dad's got him locked down tight. He can kiss his future goodbye.
"Your parents were so pissed that they stormed out. Before leaving, your dad got right in Soren's face and told him this isn't over."
I listened quietly, then asked, "How's the Prescott family's stock doing?"
"Seriously? Tomorrow, when the market opens, it's going to tank completely. This scandal is enough to give them hell," Margaret said.
I smiled, "The show's just getting started. Margaret, can you help me with something?"
"Just say the word," she replied.
"Send those documents I had you prepare earlier to several of the biggest financial media outlets anonymously," I said. "Tell them it's a tip from a business partner who got screwed over by Prescott Group."
Margaret went quiet for a few seconds. "Eleanor, are you really going to—"
"Yes, I'm going to ruin him," I said. "Since he wants to ruin me, I'll let him reap what he sows."