Chapter 3 - The Engagement Party Stopped Being a Celebration
Adrian watched the silent footage three times.
On the fourth, Victoria reached for the monitor.
“That proves nothing.”
Adrian caught her wrist before she touched it.
“Don’t.”
His voice was quiet.
That frightened Victoria more than shouting would have.
She pulled free. “Grant was probably moving the papers. I was stressed. Maybe I said ‘return them.’ You can’t read lips from a security camera.”
“I can,” Camila said.
Victoria turned on her.
“Of course you can.”
Camila felt the insult before she understood it.
Adrian did too.
“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked.
Victoria exhaled sharply. “Nothing.”
“No. Say it.”
Victoria looked around the cramped security room. “This is ridiculous. We have four hundred guests waiting.”
“Then we should probably stop lying to them.”
Her eyes widened.
“Adrian.”
He stepped past her and headed toward the ballroom.
Victoria grabbed his sleeve.
“You will not humiliate me over a cake.”
He looked down at her hand.
“This stopped being about a cake when you tried to erase the person who made it.”
Camila stood frozen.
No one had ever said something like that for her.
Not publicly.
Not when it cost them anything.
Adrian walked back into the ballroom.
The quartet was still playing, but conversations were fractured now, uncertain. Everyone knew something had happened.
Adrian climbed the small stage and took the microphone.
Victoria followed, pale with fury.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Adrian said, “before we cut the cake, I need to correct something in tonight’s program.”
Evelyn Langford’s face tightened.
Grant moved toward the exit.
The head of security blocked him.
Adrian continued.
“The cake was not designed by Victoria.”
A murmur swept the room.
“The concept, flavors, artwork, and execution belong to Camila Reyes of Reyes Bakery.”
Phones lifted.
Camila wanted to disappear.
Adrian looked toward her.
“Camila, would you come up here?”
She shook her head immediately.
A few guests laughed softly.
Adrian smiled. “That’s fair.”
For some reason, that made her move.
She walked to the stage.
Every step felt impossible.
When she reached him, Adrian offered her the microphone.
Camila stared at it.
“I don’t have a speech.”
“Neither did I.”
“That’s not true. Rich people always have speeches.”
A surprised laugh escaped him.
The room laughed too.
Even Camila smiled.
Then she faced the crowd.
“My grandmother taught me how to bake when I was nine,” she said. “She didn’t have recipes written down. She measured with her hands. She said you had to pay attention because good things change depending on the weather, the flour, and the person you’re feeding.”
The room quieted.
“The dahlias on the cake were her favorite flowers. The flavor is mine, but the reason I bake isn’t.”
She glanced at Victoria.
“I don’t need credit for everything. But I won’t let someone take credit for what I built.”
Applause began near the back.
Then spread.
Within seconds, the ballroom was standing.
Not everyone.
Victoria remained perfectly still.
Her mother did too.
Adrian looked at Camila with unmistakable admiration.
That look made Victoria’s face harden.
After the cake was cut, guests crowded around Camila.
A restaurant owner asked for a tasting.
A hotel director requested her business card.
A bride booked a consultation on the spot.
For the first time in months, Camila saw a way to save her bakery.
Then her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
She opened the message.
A photograph appeared.
Her bakery.
Taken from across the street.
The front window was dark.
Underneath it were six words.
Enjoy tonight. Tomorrow you lose everything.
Camila’s smile vanished.
Adrian saw it.
“What happened?”
She showed him the screen.
He read the message once.
Then his expression changed completely.
“Who knows where your bakery is?”
Camila looked across the ballroom.
Grant was gone.
May you like
So was Victoria.
