My sister threw red wine across my dress uniform and told me I didn’t belong in that ballroom, my father told security to take me out before I embarrassed his future son-in-law, and I looked at the stain running over my ribbons, checked the countdown on my watch, and said, “You’re right. I don’t,” because in sixty seconds the room was about to learn why I had really come

I lifted my chin and looked directly into his eyes as the final seconds disappeared from the screen of my watch. Your contract was officially terminated five minutes ago, I said in a voice that was barely above a whisper but carried through the entire room.

A violent crash exploded through the ballroom as the massive oak doors were slammed open with immense force. People flinched and gasped while the glass in Jessica’s hand slipped and shattered against the floor.

The smooth jazz music was instantly drowned out by the sound of heavy tactical boots hitting the marble in a coordinated rhythm. Black uniforms flooded the space as a team of military police moved with a discipline that was intended for execution rather than warning.

The room broke into a state of panic where whispers turned into sharp gasps and guests scrambled to get out of the way. I remained in my spot as Preston took a small step back with a face that had drained of all its color.

Russell stepped forward with the authority he thought he still possessed and demanded to know who authorized this intrusion. The lead officer ignored him entirely and moved Russell aside with a decisive motion that left the older man stunned.