THE PRICE OF PERFECTION

Pandemonium broke out. A cacophony of questions, gasps, and frantic phone calls filled the air as guests realized they were witnessing the social collapse of the decade. Adrian didn't wait to answer any of them. He turned on his heel and strode back down the aisle, gesturing for Isabel to follow him with Mia.

Camille shrieked his name, hiking up her two-hundred-thousand-dollar Vera Wang gown and sprinting after him. "Adrian! Adrian, wait! You can't do this to me!"

He reached the main house and signaled his personal security chief, Marcus. "Lock down the gates. Nobody leaves. Especially not Dominic Vance. And get Isabel and Mia into my private study. Keep them safe."

"Understood, boss," Marcus nodded, already speaking into his earpiece.

Adrian turned and walked into the bridal suite, a massive room overflowing with white orchids. A second later, Camille burst in, slamming the heavy oak doors behind her. Her perfect updo was fraying, strands of blonde hair clinging to her sweaty neck.

"Are you insane?!" she screamed, her mask entirely gone. "You humiliated me in front of half of Wall Street! Over the babbling of a maid's child!"

"Dominic Vance," Adrian said, pouring himself a neat glass of bourbon from a crystal decanter. He didn't look at her. "He's been staying at the Plaza. But eleven days ago, while I was in the board meeting for the merger, he was here. In the east wing."

"He was dropping off paperwork!" Camille stammered, pacing the room like a caged animal. "We were discussing the prenuptial agreement. That's what the kid heard! We were talking about asset transfers, legally, for the trusts!"

Adrian took a slow sip of the bourbon. It burned on the way down, a sharp reminder that he was awake. "Mia said you called him 'baby'. And that you said I wouldn't find the transfers until it was too late. Tell me, Camille, what exactly is 'too late'?"

"She's lying! Or she misunderstood!" Camille rushed forward, throwing her arms around him, pressing her tear-stained face into his chest. "I love you, Adrian. I love you so much. Please, don't throw us away. Don't let your paranoia ruin us."

For a moment, breathing in her expensive perfume, he remembered the woman in Paris. The woman who laughed at his jokes and smoothed his ties. But then he remembered his mother's dying words: A man's greatest treasure is the person who stays when there's nothing left to take.

He gently but firmly peeled her arms off his body. "Marcus," Adrian called out.

The door opened instantly. "Yes, sir."

"Pull the security footage from the east hallway, eleven days ago. I want the audio feeds from the decorative cameras we installed after the burglary scare last year. The ones Camille didn't know were active."