Chapter 3 - Shadows on the Big Screen
The silence in the grand ballroom was sudden and absolute.
No music played. No acoustic guitar strummed. Instead, the deafening sound of a recorded telephone ring blasted through the hall’s six-thousand-watt sound system.
*Brrr-ing. Brrr-ing.*
People blinked, shielding their eyes from the bright screen. Albert turned around, his forehead creasing in irritation. "Hey! AV team! Wrong file! Cut it!" he barked into his lapel mic, his voice booming over the speakers.
The technician in the booth frantically banged on his mixing board, but the screen didn't go dark. Miller had done his job with military precision; the system was hardwired to an encrypted drive that ignored local console commands.
*Click.*
A woman’s voice crackled through the speakers, loud and clear.
*"Franklin County Sheriff’s Department, Records and Warrants division. How may I direct your call?"*
Then came a man’s voice—a voice every single person in that ballroom recognized instantly. It was Albert’s voice. Smooth, confident, and utterly devoid of the soft, polite cadence he used with Chloe.
*"Yeah, this is Marcus Vance. I’m checking the status of the restitution payments on case number 2018-CR-8902. I need to make sure my probation officer isn't going to flag an out-of-state travel permit."*
The room froze. A collective gasp, quiet as a falling feather, swept through three hundred guests.
Albert’s hands dropped from Chloe’s waist. His face drained of color so quickly it looked like someone had sucked the blood straight out of his jugular. "Turn that off!" he screamed, his voice cracking into an ugly, shrill register. "Turn it off right now! Somebody pull the damn plug!"
On the screen, a certified legal document slammed into view with the heavy digital thud of a courtroom gavel.
It was an official State of Ohio Department of Corrections profile.
In the center was an unmistakably clear mugshot. Albert. Only his hair was cropped close, his eyes were cold and predatory, and the placard around his neck read: *VANCE, MARCUS E. CHARGES: GRAND LARCENY, WIRE FRAUD, IDENTITY THEFT.*
Beside me, the trash can rattled as a caterer backed away in shock, his eyes darting between the twenty-foot mugshot and the man standing on the bridal platform.
"What is this?" Chloe whispered, her voice carrying across the silent hall through Albert’s hot microphone. She turned to him, her eyes wide, staring at him as if he had transformed into a stranger right before her eyes. "Albert... who is Marcus Vance?"
Albert didn't answer her. He lunged off the stage, sprinting directly toward the AV booth at the back of the room. "I will kill whoever did this!" he snarled, completely forgetting the room full of high-society guests, business partners, and family members. "I swear to God, I'll tear your head off!"
Before he could make it three paces down the center aisle, the screen flashed again.
This time, it wasn't a criminal record.
It was an Ohio marriage certificate dated just fourteen months ago.
*Groom: Marcus Edward Vance.*
*Bride: Rebecca Lynn Holloway.*
May you like
*Status: ACTIVE / NOT DISSOLVED.*
A high-pitched shriek tore through the silence. It came from Albert’s table in the front row—not from Chloe, but from a woman seated next to Albert’s "wealthy parents."
