Chapter 5 - Unraveling on the Altar
"Stop?" Piper let out a nervous, breathless giggle, looking around the auditorium as if waiting for a hidden camera crew to jump out. "Stop what? The ceremony hasn't even started! Are you having cold feet? Oh god, is this a joke?"
"It's no joke, Piper," a clear, resonant voice rang out from the third row.
The entire auditorium turned in unison.
Helena stood up smoothly, smoothing the fabric of her black dress. Every eye in the house—from Piper’s weeping mother to Simon’s business associates from the construction firm—latched onto her as she stepped out into the central aisle.
"Helena?" Piper’s voice cracked, high and brittle with confusion. "What are you doing here? You're... you're my coworker. Why are you talking?"
"Because, Piper," Helena said, her voice carrying effortlessly through the hushed acoustics of the theater, "you're marrying my husband."
A collective gasp swept through the pews like a sudden gust of wind. Whispers erupted instantly, bouncing off the ornate plaster moldings.
"What is she talking about?" Piper’s father bellowed, half-rising from the front row, his face crimson with outrage. "Who is this woman? Simon, what the hell is going on here?"
Simon looked like a man standing before a firing squad. He opened his mouth, closed it, and took a desperate step backward, nearly tripping over the heavy velvet altar runner. "Mr. Lane... sir... please, just let me explain—"
"Explain what?" Piper screamed, the bubbly, joyful radiance of moments ago shattering into pure, hysterical rage. She turned to Simon, her fists balling up against the stiff silk of her wedding gown. "Explain what she means by your husband? Simon, you told me you were divorced! You told me your ex-wife walked out on you three years ago!"
"She lied," Simon blurted out in a pathetic panic, pointing a shaking finger at Helena. "She's... she's unstable! She’s making this all up!"
Helena didn't raise her voice. She simply opened her leather clutch, pulled out a thick, laminated manila folder, and walked right up the central steps of the stage, stopping ten feet away from the altar.
"Unstable?" Helena asked mildly. She opened the folder and extracted a crisp, official document adorned with a gold embossed seal. "Multnomah County Marriage Certificate, dated November 14th, 2020. Validated, signed, and currently active. Would you like me to read the serial number, Simon? Or perhaps you'd prefer to discuss the joint mortgage on our Hawthorne district home that you've been paying out of our shared savings?"
The silence in the theater was absolute. You could hear the hum of the lighting rigs overhead.
Piper stared at the document, her lower lip trembling violently. She looked from the official seal to Simon’s pale, sweat-soaked face, and then down at the silver geometric cufflink pinned to his lapel—cufflinks she had complimented just last week, believing them to be a rare designer find he'd bought in Europe.
"You... you lied to me," Piper whispered, her voice hollowed out by pure devastation. "For two years... you've been married?"
"Piper, let me talk to you outside," Simon pleaded, lunging forward with a desperate, clawing motion, trying to grab her hands. "It's not what you think—"
"Don't touch me!" Piper shrieked, backing away so fast she caught her heel in the layers of her crinoline petticoat and stumbled backward, collapsing onto the velvet altar steps in a heap of white silk and tears.
Her father roared with fury, lunging out of his seat and grabbing Simon by the lapels of his expensive tuxedo, shoving him hard against the floral arbor. A shower of white hydrangeas cascaded down around them like snow.
"You bastard!" Piper’s father snarled, fist cocked back. "You lying, conniving piece of garbage!"
"Stop! Please, everyone stop!"
The heavy mahogany doors at the back of the theater burst open with a loud bang.
Four uniformed officers of the Portland Police Department, flanked by a tall man in an expensive charcoal overcoat carrying a bulging leather briefcase, strode purposefully down the center aisle.
Marcus Vance, the family-law attorney, stepped forward, flashing a laminated card at the theater manager who was running down the aisle waving his arms in protest.
"Simon David Bellamy?" Vance called out, his voice cutting cleanly through the chaotic uproar on the stage.
Simon froze, pinned against the wrecked floral arrangement by Piper’s father.
"Simon David Bellamy, you are hereby served with emergency filings for legal separation, immediate asset freezing under suspicion of corporate fraud, bigamy investigations, and misappropriation of marital funds," Vance announced clearly, holding up a thick packet of legal papers. "Furthermore, federal and local civil actions have been initiated regarding the illicit formation of Bellamy & Lane Holdings using commingled marital capital."
Simon stared at the legal papers as if they were venomous snakes. All the color had drained completely from his face, leaving him looking gray, hollow, and utterly defeated.
"And as for the criminal side," Vance added with a cold, professional smile, nodding toward the police officers, "bigamy is an extraditable offense in this state. Officer, if you please."
May you like
Two of the police officers stepped onto the stage, flanking Simon on either side. The metal gleam of handcuffs caught the amber stage lights.
"Mr. Bellamy, you have the right to remain silent," the lead officer recited smoothly, pulling Simon’s arms behind his back as the sharp click-click of steel handcuffs echoed through the silent, stunned theater.
