CHAPTER 8 — The Best Man's Mistake
The ballroom emptied into controlled chaos.
Police officers rushed toward the Executive Board Suite.
Corporate security spread through the hallways.
Guests gathered in nervous clusters, whispering theories that changed by the minute.
Through it all...
Oliver never moved.
The groom's best man remained near the bar, a half-finished glass of whiskey still in his hand.
Too calm.
Far too calm.
I leaned toward my father.
"Dad."
He looked at me immediately.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"The best man."
His eyes followed my gaze.
Oliver was pretending to watch the police activity.
But every few seconds...
His eyes drifted toward the hallway leading to the boardroom.
Dad noticed it too.
"You've been watching him?"
"For a while."
"What made you suspicious?"
"He hasn't asked about Chloe."
"Or Dominic."
"Or the ring."
"He's only watching that hallway."
Dad smiled faintly.
"You've always noticed what others miss."
Victoria quietly spoke into her earpiece.
Without attracting attention...
Two members of corporate security casually moved closer to Oliver.
Not to confront him.
Just to observe.
Meanwhile, Detective Harris emerged from the hallway.
His face was grim.
"The boardroom has definitely been disturbed."
"What did you find?"
Victoria asked.
"The contracts are still there."
"But several folders are missing."
"How many?"
"Three."
My father nodded slowly.
"As I expected."
Dominic hurried over.
"What contracts?"
Dad looked at him.
"Tell me something."
"Did your father ever discuss selling Bennett Holdings?"
Dominic frowned.
"No."
"He always said it would stay in the family."
"What about refinancing?"
"No."
"Merging?"
"Never."
Dad exchanged a glance with Victoria.
"Then someone was preparing documents your father never authorized."
Dominic's expression darkened.
"My father died eight months ago."
"I know."
Dad replied quietly.
"Which raises an important question."
"If Richard Bennett is dead..."
"...who was supposed to sign those contracts tonight?"
The room fell silent.
Eleanor suddenly looked toward the exit.
Just for a second.
But it was enough.
Detective Harris saw it.
"So we're waiting for someone."
She crossed her arms.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"No?"
He stepped closer.
"Because every time we mention those contracts..."
"...you look at the front door."
At that exact moment...
Oliver's phone vibrated.
It was barely audible.
He looked down.
Read the message.
Then, without realizing anyone was watching...
He deleted it immediately.
Victoria noticed.
So did my father.
One of the security officers quietly intercepted Oliver before he could leave.
"Sir."
Oliver forced a smile.
"Yes?"
"We need everyone to remain inside."
"I was only stepping out for fresh air."
"I'm afraid that isn't possible."
Oliver shrugged.
"No problem."
But as he slipped his phone back into his pocket...
Something small fell onto the floor.
A memory card.
Tiny.
Black.
Almost invisible against the marble.
Oliver didn't notice.
I did.
"Dad."
I pointed discreetly.
He followed my gaze.
Victoria walked over naturally, pretending to adjust a fallen napkin.
Instead...
She picked up the memory card.
Without anyone else noticing.
She slipped it into a small evidence envelope.
Oliver remained completely unaware.
Ten minutes later...
A forensic technician arrived carrying a portable laptop.
Victoria handed him the card.
"Can you read it?"
He nodded.
"If it isn't encrypted."
The room watched silently as he inserted it.
A loading screen appeared.
Then...
Dozens of video files.
The technician frowned.
"These are security recordings."
Detective Harris stepped forward.
"From this venue?"
"No."
The technician enlarged the file names.
Everyone stared.
Ashcroft Financial Headquarters.
My father became very still.
Victoria looked genuinely shocked.
"Those files should never have left the company."
The technician clicked one.
Security footage began playing.
Not from the ballroom.
From one of Ashcroft Group's executive offices.
Another file.
A private board meeting.
Another.
Financial records.
Restricted documents.
Someone had stolen confidential corporate surveillance.
Detective Harris slowly turned toward Oliver.
"Would you care to explain why you have stolen corporate files?"
Oliver blinked.
"I've never seen those."
"The memory card fell from your pocket."
"It..."
"That isn't mine."
"No?"
The technician enlarged the metadata.
"Last accessed."
Today's date.
5:17 PM.
Just two hours earlier.
Oliver's calm expression finally cracked.
Only for a moment.
But it was enough.
The detective noticed.
My father noticed.
I noticed.
Then something unexpected happened.
Oliver smiled.
Not nervously.
Confidently.
"You think you've won."
He looked directly at my father.
"You haven't even figured out whose game you're playing."
The ballroom became silent.
"What does that mean?"
Detective Harris asked.
Oliver laughed softly.
"You really believe Eleanor planned all this?"
He shook his head.
"She was useful."
Nothing more.
Eleanor stared at him.
"What?"
Oliver ignored her.
He looked at me.
"Vivienne..."
"You should ask your father about Project Orion."
My father's face changed instantly.
For the first time all evening...
He looked genuinely alarmed.
"Dad?"
I whispered.
He didn't answer.
Instead, he stared at Oliver.
"Who told you that name?"
Oliver smiled again.
"You already know."
"No."
Dad said quietly.
"I know who could have."
Oliver leaned closer.
"Then you're already too late."
Before anyone could react...
The ballroom lights suddenly went out.
Complete darkness.
Guests screamed.
Someone knocked over a table.
Glass shattered across the floor.
Police officers shouted commands.
Flashlights flickered on.
Corporate security moved immediately.
Thirty seconds later...
Emergency lights illuminated the ballroom.
Oliver was gone.
Only a broken window beside the service corridor remained open.
Detective Harris rushed over.
"Damn it!"
One of the officers looked outside.
"Black SUV."
"It just sped away."
My father remained perfectly still.
His eyes fixed on the shattered window.
Then he quietly said five words that made Victoria turn pale.
"It wasn't about the wedding."
I looked at him.
"What wasn't?"
He finally met my eyes.
"This..."
May you like
He glanced toward the broken window.
"...was about our company."
