A Very Exclusive Engagement(53)

On her feet, she was a dripping mess. Her perfectly curled blond hair was flat and greasy with white clumps of frosting. Icing was smeared across her face and all over her purple dress. She huffed and struggled in her captors’ arms, but there was no use. They had her this time. At last, Angelica had gotten herself into a situation she couldn’t weasel out of.

“You know,” Hayden said, “looking like that, I’m surprised people didn’t see the resemblance before.”

Angelica immediately stilled and her face went as pale as the frosting. “I don’t look anything like her.”

“Oh, come on, Madeline. There’s no sense lying anymore about who you really are.”

The calm in her immediately vanished. “Never call me that name. Do you hear me? Never! Madeline Burch is dead. Dead. I am Angelica Pierce, you understand? Angelica Pierce!” she repeated, as though that might make it true.

Several people gasped in the crowd. Cara stood stock-still a few feet away with Max protectively at her side. “Rowena and I went to Woodlawn Academy with Madeline,” she said before turning to Angelica. “We were right. It is you.”

“You shut up,” Angelica spat. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“You’re right. I don’t,” Cara answered.

The guards then escorted a wildly thrashing Angelica—or Madeline—out of the ballroom. By now, the local police were likely on their way to take her into custody. First, for disorderly conduct and assault. Then, maybe, for her involvement in the hacking scandal. Either way, a scene like that was enough cause for Liam to terminate her from ANS for good.

“I’m sorry about the mess,” Hayden said, wiping some cake from his face. “I never expected her to come talk to me. She was so confident that she had me beaten. I couldn’t pass up the chance to put a crack in her facade, but I didn’t realize she’d go nuclear. It ruined your reception. Just look at the cake.”

Liam shrugged. Somehow knowing it wasn’t his real wedding made it easier to stomach. “Nailing Angelica is important. You have to take every opportunity you can get.”

He walked with Hayden out of the ballroom to where a few police officers were waiting outside. They answered their questions and gave out their contact information. Hayden opted to go with them to the station, but Liam knew he needed to get back inside and salvage what was left of his wedding reception.

When Liam returned, people seemed to be milling around, at a loss for what to do with themselves. “Sorry about that, folks,” he said, raising his hands to get everyone’s attention. “Please stick around and enjoy the reception. I’m sad to say there won’t be any cake, though.” A few people chuckled and most awkwardly returned to nibbling and drinking as they had before the fight broke out.

Liam noticed the drinks he’d fetched from the bar still untouched on the table. He’d gotten wrapped up in the scene and had forgotten to take Francesca her champagne. He picked them back up and turned, looking for her. After all that, they’d need another round pretty quickly.

But she was nowhere to be found.

Frowning, he searched the ballroom, finally turning to a frazzled Ariella for help. “Have you seen the bride?” he asked.

“Not since I put her in a cab.”

“A cab?” Liam frowned. “You mean she’s left her own reception? Without me?”

Ariella bit her lip and nodded. “About ten minutes ago. Right about the time Angelica started bathing in wedding cake. She needed to get out of here.”

Liam glanced around the mess of a ballroom. Scarlet was frantically informing staff of their cleanup duties. The guests were still standing around, but despite his assurances, they seemed unsure of whether they should stay. It was a wedding disaster.

He didn’t blame Francesca one bit for leaving.

*

Francesca couldn’t get out of her wedding dress fast enough. The corset-tight bodice made her feel like she couldn’t breathe. It was all just too much.

Initially, she’d been relieved when Hayden and Angelica started making a scene. For the first time that day, every eye in the room wasn’t on her. It was a blessed break. It was the first moment since she started down the aisle that she thought she might be able to let the facade of bridal bliss drop and regather herself.

And then the cake started flying.

Her nonna had never specifically mentioned that having her wedding cake flung across the room was bad luck, but Francesca was ready to make her own deduction about that. Their reception was a disaster. Their sham of a marriage would no doubt be a mess, too. It was just one more thing, one more blazing neon sign trying to point her in the right direction. She’d ignored all the other portents of bad luck. The fates had ensured this last one would be undeniable.