Chapter 5: The Viral Firestorm
Chapter 5: The Viral Firestorm
By Tuesday, we were out of the hospital, safely tucked away in my small apartment. I had turned my phone off for two days to focus entirely on Sophie. When I finally powered it back on, my inbox was flooded, and my voicemail was full.
It wasn't just my family trying to reach me. It was journalists.
While the hotel security footage was locked away as police evidence, someone at the wedding had uploaded a cell phone video of the immediate aftermath to TikTok. The video showed Preston standing over Sophie with the bloody oak board, screaming about a thief, while my mother told me I was causing a scene.
The internet did what the internet does best. It weaponized the outrage.
The video amassed fourteen million views in forty-eight hours. The hashtags #JusticeForSophie and #BennettWeddingNightmare were trending worldwide. Internet sleuths had already identified Preston, his employer, Madison, and my father's law firm.
My father's pristine reputation, built over forty years of cutthroat legal maneuvering, was burning to the ground in a matter of hours. Protesters had shown up outside Bennett, Hayes & Vance. Preston's venture capital firm fired him publicly via a press release before he even made his second court appearance.
The doorbell rang. I checked the peephole. It was Marcus Vance.
Marcus was the 'Vance' in my father's law firm. A brilliant, ruthless litigator who despised my father on a personal level, though they tolerated each other for profit.
I opened the door. Marcus stood there in a sharp charcoal suit, holding a thick briefcase.
"Evelyn," he said softly, a predatory gleam in his eye. "I brought you some soup from your favorite deli. And I brought a contract."
I let him in. "Why are you here, Marcus? Did my father send you to threaten me?"
"God, no," Marcus laughed, sitting at my kitchen table. "Richard is currently having a coronary in his office because our top clients are pulling their retainers. I’m here because I’m leaving the firm. I'm starting my own practice today."
He opened his briefcase and pulled out a stack of papers. "And I want you to be my first client. We aren't just going to put Preston in prison, Evelyn. We are going to bankrupt him, your father, and anyone else who aided in covering up the assault of your daughter. I'm talking a civil suit that will make legal history."
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I looked at Marcus. I thought about my mother's icy stare. I thought about my father's $250,000 check meant to buy my silence.
I picked up the pen. "Where do I sign?"
