He stationed bodyguards everywhere—inside the venue, outside, at every exit.
He needn't have bothered.
Kevin had already made his position clear: anyone who helped me make trouble would answer to the Henson family.
No one dared stand with me.
I sat alone in my hotel room, tracing my mother's face in the photograph I'd brought. Tears fell onto the glass.
I'm sorry, Mom. I'm so sorry.
That afternoon, Kevin kicked in my door anyway.
Behind him stood Christina, eyes swollen and red from crying.
He crossed the room in three strides and grabbed my collar, yanking me close.
"Fern." His voice shook with fury. "I didn't think even you could sink this low. Projecting Christina's nude photos at her own mother's wedding?"
"It's already trending online. How is she supposed to find a husband now? You're trying to destroy her!"
I shoved his hands away, bewildered.
"What are you—"
Christina cut me off, her voice breaking into theatrical sobs.
"Sis, I know you didn't want to transfer the shares to me. But it was Dad's decision! What was I supposed to do, defy him?"