My Husband Divorced Me To Marry His Mistress, Thinking He Owned My Family’s Multi-million Dollar Company. He Just Found Out He’s Actually An At-will Employee. Who Should Tell Him He’s About To Get Arrested At His Own Wedding?

The Arrival of the True Owner

However, just as the cheers began to die down and Damian was about to step down from the stage to cut the cake, something strange happened. The spotlight on him flickered once and then slowly dimmed. At first, Damian thought it was part of a dramatic effect prepared by the wedding planners.

He smiled, waiting to see what surprise would appear. But the dimming of the lights felt different. It wasn’t just the stage light; the main chandelier in the center of the ballroom also dimmed until it was almost out.

The room, once brightly lit, became dim, creating a confusing atmosphere. The orchestra, which had been playing a beautiful melody, suddenly stopped. It wasn’t by the conductor’s order, but because the lights in their area went out completely, preventing them from reading their sheet music.

The guests began to murmur. Whispers of confusion started to sound like the buzz of an angry swarm of bees. Damian looked at the lighting technician in a corner of the room, signaling for him to turn the lights back on.,

But the technician seemed to be frantically fiddling with the control panel. In another corner, the hotel manager was speaking into his earpiece with a very serious expression. But he didn’t seem as scared as the technician; in fact, he seemed calm, as if he knew this was going to happen.

He gave a brief instruction and then looked directly at the altar stage, into Damian’s eyes. It was not the respectful gaze towards a VIP client, but the cold look of an executioner who had just received the order to fire. Damian felt the hair on his arms stand up.

He tried to speak into the microphone again to calm the guests. “Don’t worry folks, it’s just a small technical issue. Please remain calm. The hotel’s generator is probably kicking in. A little patience,” Damian said with a forced laugh.

But his voice was not heard. The microphone in his hand was dead. The entire sound system in the room had been disabled.

An unnatural silence began to envelop the grand hall. The laughter and conversations of the guests slowly faded, replaced by growing curiosity and tension. Sylvia pulled on Damian’s arm forcefully.,

“Honey, what’s happening? You said this hotel was the best. How can the lights and sound go out like this? What an embarrassment,” Sylvia hissed in a harsh voice.

Damian didn’t answer; he was busy tapping the head of the silent microphone. Amid the dimness of the emergency lights that were beginning to come on along the edges of the walls, everyone’s attention suddenly shifted not to the stage, but to the main ballroom door located at the opposite end, facing the altar. The giant carved double wooden door began to open slowly.

No employee opened it; it seemed to move by a newly activated automatic mechanism. The heavy creak of the hinges echoed in the silent room, drawing all eyes. A cold draft from the outer hallway entered, bringing with it an aura far more foreboding than simple darkness.

The giant door was now fully open, revealing the silhouettes of two people standing in the threshold, backlit by the bright light of the outer hallway. The contrast of the light made their figures look dramatic, like heroes, or perhaps villains appearing in the final act of a play. The silent hall seemed to hold its breath.,

No guest dared to speak. All eyes were fixed on the two figures. Slowly, they began to enter.

The sound of their footsteps was clear and rhythmic on the hard marble floor. Click, clack, click. The decisive sound of high heels mixed with the steady tread of a man’s shoes, creating a rhythm of intimidation that broke the silence.

The female figure was Eleanor. She was wearing a very elegant outfit, very different from the simple appearance Damian was used to seeing at home. Her long dress was a dark velvet that absorbed the light, giving her a mysterious and authoritative air.

Her scarf was perfectly placed, framing a serene face that nonetheless radiated a piercing coldness. She wore no excessive jewelry, just an antique brooch on her left breast, but her mere presence felt more valuable than all the golden decorations in the room. Walking beside her was a middle-aged man with an upright posture and extraordinary authority.,

It was Mr. Hayes. He wore a perfectly tailored formal suit of European cut, his hair slicked back, highlighting his firm, experienced face. As they advanced through the room, the guests near the entrance instinctively moved aside, creating a wide aisle through the crowd.

Some older guests, veteran business partners in the city, looked surprised. They recognized Mr. Hayes. The whispers started again, but this time with a tone of awe and respect.

“Isn’t that Mr. Hayes, the owner of the Alcazar Group?” one man whispered to his wife. “What’s a tycoon like him doing at Damian’s party?” another asked. “And who’s the woman next to him? That’s not his wife, that’s Damian’s ex-wife,” exclaimed another guest who recognized Eleanor.

A shock wave spread quickly among the guests. But Eleanor and Mr. Hayes continued walking in a straight line, their eyes fixed on the altar stage. Damian, standing on the dimly lit stage, squinted, trying to recognize the unwanted guests.,

When Eleanor’s face became visible under the emergency light, Damian’s heart seemed to stop for a moment. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Eleanor, the woman he had just divorced and insulted in his speech, was now entering his party with her head held high on the arm of a powerful man.

Shame, anger, and confusion mingled in Damian’s chest. But what scared him most was the man beside Eleanor. Damian had seen that face in international business magazines and in a photo hanging in the lobby of the headquarters.

It was Mr. Hayes, the legendary figure who controlled many large companies, including the one where Damian worked. He had never met him in person, as Damian’s level was considered too low for meetings with the primary shareholder. Sylvia, who didn’t understand who Mr. Hayes was and didn’t care about his authoritative aura, burst into a rage.

She felt her moment had been ruined. She grabbed another microphone from the ceremony table, hoping it would work, but it was also dead. Finally, she shouted in a shrill voice that broke the tension.,

“Hey, who let this peasant in? This is a private event! Security! Where’s security? Get them out of here now!”

Her shout echoed, sounding vulgar and classless, making some guests frown, uncomfortable with the bride’s behavior. Damian tried to calm Sylvia down, realizing the situation was dangerous, but Sylvia was already beside herself. She pointed at Eleanor’s face from a distance.

Several uniformed security guards in black who were at the edges of the room moved, but not to throw Eleanor out. Instead, they formed a barrier on both sides of the aisle where Eleanor and Mr. Hayes were walking, as if they were escorting very high-level guests. Sylvia’s jaw dropped at the scene.

“Are you deaf?” I said. “Throw them out! I’m paying you!” Sylvia screamed again, her voice starting to sound hysterical.

The head of security glanced at Sylvia briefly with an impassive expression and then looked straight ahead, completely ignoring the bride’s order. Eleanor paid no attention to Sylvia’s shouts. She didn’t stop, didn’t turn, didn’t even blink.,

To Eleanor, Sylvia’s screams were just unimportant background noise. She and Mr. Hayes continued walking until they reached the front of the stage area, right in front of the nearest round table reserved for VIP guests, the direct family. The table that Damian and Sylvia’s parents were supposed to occupy, but the table was empty because Sylvia’s parents were in the restroom and Damian’s mother had refused to attend.

Mr. Hayes pulled out one of the chairs with a gentlemanly gesture, inviting Eleanor to sit. Eleanor sat down elegantly, her back straight, and placed her handbag on the table. Mr. Hayes sat beside her.

As soon as they were seated, as if on command, a head waiter hurried over with a tray containing two glasses of premium mineral water and placed them with utmost care in front of them. The waiter gave a deep bow, much more respectful than when he had served Damian. This scene made Damian tremble even more.,

He felt his knees weaken. He realized that in this hotel, the supreme power was not held by the one renting the hall, but by the owner of the building, and the gestures of the hotel staff made it clear to whom their loyalty belonged. Silence once again enveloped the room.

There was no music or clinking of plates. All the guests waited to see what would happen next. Eleanor picked up her water glass, took a calm sip, and then looked up at Damian on the stage.

Her gaze was not one of anger from a betrayed wife, but of pity from an owner towards an employee who was about to be fired. Damian felt stripped bare by that look. He wanted to run, but his feet were glued to the stage floor.

Mr. Hayes stood up slowly. He didn’t shout; he simply raised his hand slightly in a gesture. Miraculously, the main spotlight that had been off came back on, but only one, and it was aimed directly at Mr. Hayes, not the bride and groom.