Chapter 10 - The Guest List
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The preparations for the grand engagement gala consumed the estate over the next two days.
Eleanor was in her absolute element, acting as the queen of a castle she believed she had entirely conquered. She barked orders at the florists, demanding they adjust the massive arches of white orchids by mere inches. She scrutinized the seating chart with microscopic intensity, ensuring she was placed at the absolute center of power, surrounded by the city's elite.
Three hundred guests were confirmed. Politicians, federal judges, rival corporate moguls, and high-society socialites. It was the perfect, glittering stage.
Richard moved through the chaos like a phantom, signing the exorbitant checks without a single complaint. He smiled at the right moments. He tasted the champagne selections. He played the part of the devoted, oblivious fiancé so flawlessly that even Eleanor's massive ego couldn't detect the trap closing around her.
"Darling, look at this," Eleanor cooed on Thursday afternoon, holding up a massive, silver-embossed menu card. "I decided on the lobster bisque for the first course. Do you think the Mayor will approve?"
"It's perfect, Eleanor," Richard said, standing behind her and resting his hands lightly on her shoulders. He felt her muscles relax under his touch. "In fact, I spoke with my attorneys this morning. The paperwork for the trust transfer is finalized. I'm going to make the announcement right after the first toast."
Eleanor turned her head, her eyes wide with a poorly concealed, greedy thrill. "Richard, are you sure? It's such a massive commitment."
"I am absolutely certain," Richard murmured, looking deeply into her eyes. "I want everyone in that room to know exactly what you are worth to me."
"You are too good to me," she sighed, leaning her head back against his chest.
"I'm giving you exactly what you have earned," Richard promised softly.
He stepped away, leaving her to gloat over her perceived victory. He walked out to the sprawling rear gardens where the massive white reception tents were being erected.
Marcus was standing near the hedge maze, smoking a cigarette in the freezing air.
"Is the guest list finalized?" Richard asked quietly as he approached.
May you like
"It is," Marcus grunted, handing Richard a folded piece of paper. "Julian Vance is confirmed. He's sitting at Table Four, right next to the city comptroller. He thinks he's attending his own payday."
"Good," Richard smiled, a cold, empty expression. "Make sure the doors are reinforced."
