Chapter 4 - Stripped of Armor
The ballroom was emptying fast. The three hundred elite guests who had been drinking champagne twenty minutes ago were now rushing for the doors, anxious to distance themselves from the radioactive scandal unfolding on the main floor. The jazz band had packed up their instruments and quietly departed through the rear exit.
Only my family remained in the massive, hollow space.
Jessica was sitting on the edge of the marble stage, weeping uncontrollably in her ruined white dress, her dream life evaporated into thin air. My father sat heavily at one of the abandoned banquet tables, staring blankly at the half-empty wine glasses and expensive floral centerpieces.
I walked over to the spot where I had been standing when I first entered. I looked down at the crumpled one-hundred-dollar bill Preston had thrown at my feet.
I picked it up.
I walked over to my father’s table and placed the bill gently beside his cold coffee cup.
"Use this to hire a good defense lawyer," I said quietly. "You’re going to need one when the Securities and Exchange Commission calls tomorrow morning."
My father slowly lifted his head. The proud, arrogant patriarch was gone. In his place was an old man who had traded his family and his honor for empty prestige.
"Mackenzie..." he stammered, his voice weak. "We’re your family. How could you do this to us?"
"Family?" I repeated the word he had used against me so many times. "Family supports each other. Family respects each other. When I walked through those doors in my uniform—a uniform I earned through sweat, sacrifice, and service—you called me an embarrassment. You let your guests laugh at me. You told security to throw me out like trash."
He swallowed hard, unable to offer a defense.
"You thought my uniform was a sign that I was beneath you," I continued, unbuttoning my stained Class A coat. Underneath, my white dress shirt was still crisp and pristine. "You thought wearing a suit made Preston a king. But a uniform isn't just fabric, Dad. It's duty. It's integrity. Things money can't buy and smart talk can't fake."
I folded the wine-stained jacket carefully over my arm.
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Jessica looked up through her tear-stained eyes. "What are you going to do now?" she sobbed, her voice lacking any of its former venom. "You destroyed everything."
"I didn't destroy anything," I replied, looking down at her. "I just revealed what was already rotten. As for me? I'm going back to work."
