The heavy doors to the event space burst open with a bang that silenced the room. A man stood framed in the doorway, tall, maybe early 30s, wearing an expensive suit, but it was askew – jacket unbuttoned, tie loosened, hair messy. His face was flushed, eyes scanning the room frantically. He looked furious. Unhinged.
“WHERE IS TRINA?” he roared, his voice echoing in the sudden, absolute silence. “WHERE THE F* IS SHE?!**”
Every head turned. Trina’s smirk vanished, replaced instantly by a mask of pale fear. Not confusion. Pure, unadulterated fear. She knew exactly who this was and why he was here.
He spotted her. Stormed across the room, ignoring the parted crowd, eyes locked on Trina. He was shaking, vibrating with rage. Didn’t glance at me, didn’t notice the wine, didn’t see anyone but her.
He stopped inches from her face. His voice dropped, low and menacing, but carried in the dead silence. “You forged my name.”
Trina started to stammer, trying to play it off. “Alan, honey, what are you talking about? Are you drunk?”
“Don’t,” he cut her off, his voice tight. “You cleaned out our joint account. You stole over $200,000.”
Gasps rippled through the room. People who’d been laughing moments ago now looked horrified.
He pulled a crumpled folder from under his arm, shoved it towards her. Bank statements, documents, papers spilling out. “You signed a loan application in my name! Took out credit cards! Lied to my lawyer! Used my company – my father’s company – to lease that ridiculous car you drive!”
Trina reached for the papers, maybe to hide them, maybe to rip them up. He snatched them back. “You think you’re some kind of mastermind?” he spat, voice thick with disgust. “You’re a fraud! A parasite! I gave you everything, and you used me! Bled me dry! I’m done protecting you. Done covering for you. The cops are on their way.”
Dead silence. No one breathed. Trina looked like she might collapse.
