Chapter 3 - The Arrival of the TitanCameron and Patricia spun around simultaneously.
Walking down the hallway, flanked by my brother Everett, was an imposing, silver-haired man in a bespoke navy suit. At sixty-two, Uncle Jonathan Vance moved with the terrifying, unhurried authority of a man who had spent three decades destroying corrupt politicians and corporate fraudsters in federal courtrooms.
Beside him, Everett looked broad, furious, and ready for a fight, his fists clenched at his sides.
Patricia’s face drained of every ounce of color. The champagne glass slipped from her manicured fingers, crashing onto the marble floorboards, splattering sparkling wine across her champagne gown.
"Jonathan...?" Patricia gasped out, her voice shrinking into a high, pathetic squeak. "What... what are you doing here?"
Jonathan didn't answer her. He didn't even look at her.
He walked straight up to Cameron, his six-foot-two frame towering over my fiancé. Jonathan’s dark eyes locked onto the crimson bruise on my left cheekbone, then flicked down to Cameron’s right hand.
"You put your hands on my niece," Jonathan said. His voice wasn't loud, but it possessed an absolute, freezing weight that dropped the temperature in the hallway below zero.
"Uncle Jonathan," Cameron stammered, stepping back two fast paces, his arrogant composure shattering into sweating panic. "Look, this is a family misunderstanding. Hallie became hysterical over seating arrangements—"
THWACK!
Before Cameron could finish his sentence, my brother Everett stepped forward and delivered a single, thunderous right hook straight to Cameron’s jaw.
Cameron’s head snapped back, his legs buckling as he crashed sideways against the hallway wall, sliding down onto the marble floorboards, clutching his bleeding mouth in total, speech-bound shock.
"EVERETT!" Patricia shrieked, falling to her knees beside her son. "YOU ASSAULTED MY SON! I'M CALLING THE POLICE!"
"Go ahead, Patricia. Call them," Uncle Jonathan instructed cleanly, pulling an encrypted leather folder from his briefcase, setting it flat against the wall display. "Because when the Wake County Sheriff arrives, he won't be arresting Everett. He’ll be executing a federal search warrant on Vance-Moretti Commercial Realty for corporate wire fraud, forgery, and grand larceny."
Cameron wiped blood from his lip, looking up at Jonathan with bloodshot, terrified eyes. "You... you can't do that. You don't have jurisdiction!"
"I don't need jurisdiction when I have the original land registry filings from 1988, Cameron," Jonathan revealed, a razor-sharp, freezing smile touching his lips. "And I certainly don't need jurisdiction to report a forged notary seal to the North Carolina State Bar."
Jonathan turned his head toward the bridal suite door, his severe features softening as he looked past me to my father, who was standing quietly in the doorway.
"Hello, Thomas," Jonathan said softly to my dad.
May you like
My father looked at his estranged elder brother, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "Jonathan... you came."
"Of course I came, Tom," Jonathan answered quietly, stepping into the room to wrap a strong arm around his brother's shoulders. "Nobody steals from a Vance. Not on my watch."
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