Chapter 12
The room enupted in gasps, shock registering on every face.
“Holy shit, that’s Mr. Hatcher! He’s cheating?”
“I thought Hatcher was completely devoted to his bride! How could he sleep with his assistant?”
Meanwhile, the press zeroed in the instant they recognized the faces. They weren’t about to let a scandal this juicy get away.
The Internet worked with terrifying speed. Nearly five million viewers had flooded the live stream, their comments pouring in like an unstoppable tide.
“Guess Terrence is just another asshole who can’t keep it in his pants. Disgusting!”
“I can’t believe I ever thought he was the perfect gentleman. Makes me sick!”
Terrence’s mind raced with one terrified thought–Thea should not see this. He was certain his rivals had hacked his home security system, unearthed this footage, and staged this humiliation to destroy his wedding.
Springing into action, he snarled at his assistant to cut the video and block all media access. Then, grabbing the microphone, he warned everyone present not to
breathe a word of this.
Someone couldn’t resist muttering, “Didn’t the host say this was the bride’s present? Maybe she already knew.”
Terrence felt the blood drain from his face. That was the one possibility he dreaded facing the most. He fought to convince himself.
Thea was deaf, and she never checked the home surveillance footage. Unless someone mentioned it outright, she’d have no idea. But her extended absence sent a wave of panic through Terrence.
Unable to help himself, he took out his phone and texted her, “Thea, are you here yet?”
A minute passed. Then, another. Still, no reply came.
His palms grew clammy. He was just about to video–call her when the doors to the wedding hall creaked open. Every eye in the room turned toward the entrance.
A faint smile of relief flickered across Terrence’s lips. Thea had finally arrived. At least the video had been taken care of. Bouquet in hand, he slowly stepped forward to meet his bride.
But just as he was about to reach out, he froze. The figure entering wasn’t his awaited bride but a procession of attendants in funeral black, bearing a casket between them.
Rage burned in Terrence’s eyes. The wedding had been one disaster after another, and now his patience was gone.
This was his wedding. Whose casket was that? Who the hell were these people? They had some nerve barging into his ceremony like this!
Terrence immediately signaled security to remove them, but one of the attendants stepped forward, his face grim with sympathy.
“Mr. Hatcher, I’m sorry to tell you this, but your fiancée took her own life yesterday. Please accept our condolences,” he said.
Terrence refused to believe it. He’d just video–called Thea yesterday. She’d been perfectly fine, even talking about a surprise gift for their wedding. There was no way she would commit suicide.
He sneered. He was certain these people were working with whoever played that video on the screen.
“First that video, and now you’re telling me my wife is dead? Who the hell put you up to this?” Terrence barked, his control hanging by a thread.
The attendant’s expression only grew more sympathetic. He gestured toward the casket. “You’re welcome to see for yourself if you doubt us.”
A harsh, disbelieving laugh escaped Terrence’s lips. “Fine. Let’s see what kind of twisted joke this is!”
He inarched toward the casket, every muscle taut with barely restrained fury, prepared to overturn it if necessary. But when his eyes locked on the face inside, his strength vanished. His knees gave way, and he nearly collapsed.
“Thea!”
