Chapter 8
The revelation hit the ballroom like a secondary shockwave. Douglas stared at the detective with slack-jawed incomprehension, his gaze darting frantically from Marcus back to Caroline, and finally toward the heavy oak doors where heavy footsteps were beginning to echo from the grand foyer.
"What are you implying, Detective?" Douglas demanded, his voice cracking with renewed panic as he hoisted himself unsteadily to his feet. "Are you suggesting someone else inside this room—someone outside my immediate family—orchestrated the financial drain?"
"I'm not implying anything yet, Mr. Mercer. I'm stating facts," Marcus replied calmly, sliding a single sheet of heavy cardstock from an inner pocket of his charcoal suit jacket. He held it up so the overhead golden chandelier light illuminated the embossed signature at the bottom. "A secondary power of attorney executed three days ago, granting full liquidation rights of the Mercer Holdings primary reserve fund to an anonymous Swiss entity."
Juliette stopped sobbing momentarily, her tear-streaked face lifting from the satin folds of her wedding gown as confusion temporarily eclipsed her terror. "What? That's impossible! Dad, you told me I was the sole beneficiary of the reserve fund!"
"I never signed that!" Douglas roared, stepping down from the altar with surprising vigor, his face flushing a deep, mottled crimson. "I locked that vault after the fire! Nobody had the secondary key except... except..." Douglas stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes locking onto the back rows of the ballroom where the elite wedding guests were nervously whispering among themselves.
A tall, impeccably dressed man in a custom Italian tuxedo stepped out from the cluster of terrified guests. He did not look panicked. In fact, a faint, polite smile played on his lips as he adjusted his platinum cufflinks.
"It's true, Douglas," Richard Sinclair—billionaire industrialist, political kingmaker, and Juliette's newly abandoned groom—said smoothly, his voice carrying effortlessly across the silent hall. "A collapsing empire is such a messy thing to inherit when you can simply buy it at liquidation value."
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Juliette rose to her feet in a flurry of white tulle, her face a mask of utter betrayal. "Richard? What are you saying? We're getting married today! You promised me protection!"
"Marriage is a contract, my dear Juliette, and your family's assets were grossly misrepresented during our prenuptial negotiations," Richard replied coldly, not even glancing at his weeping bride as he stepped past a cluster of trembling bridesmaids. "Your sister's little crusade simply accelerated a hostile takeover that was already six months in motion."
