Chapter 8
With everyone watching, Cedric made his entrance in a perfectly tailored black suit.
He adjusted his gold–rimmed glasses and nodded slightly to acknowledge the crowd. His cold, intense gaze swept across the room, exuding an air of oppression.
In an instant, the hall fell silent. Every guest froze in disbelief. No one had expected Cedric to be the groom in the strategic marriage between the Norwoods and the Millers. Those watching the live stream were eager for drama. Yet, they, too, were struck silent.
Preston gritted his teeth in fury, veins bulging on his forehead. His voice was laced with rage as he roared, “Uncle Cedric? This can’t be real! There must be some mistake!” Everyone in the room snapped back to reality upon hearing that.
“Y–You’re right! It must be a mix–up on the host’s end. How could Mr. Norwood marry Jolene? The age difference is too big!” someone stammered.
Another chimed in, “Jolene wouldn’t even marry Pres! There’s no way she deserves Mr. Norwood. This has to be some mistake!”
While they continued to deny the truth, Cedric had already reached the center of the stage.
Without wasting a moment, the ceremony moved on to the next segment–the exchange of vows.
“Mr. Cedric Norwood, do you take Ms. Jolene Miller to be your lawfully wedded wife? To love, honor, and cherish her, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, until death do you part?”
When Cedric firmly responded with “I do“, the room plunged into stunned silence. Every mouth hung agape, their eyes wide with disbelief at the scene unfolding before them. Meanwhile, Preston’s mind went blank, and his blood ran cold. He grabbed his car keys without hesitation, flipped the table in front of him, and then rushed out like a madman. He couldn’t be bothered with the shouting behind him. His mind was focused on only one thing.
Jolene was his fiancée, and she could only marry him. She could never marry his uncle!
Preston floored the accelerator, running through a dozen red lights. But by the time he reached the venue, the wedding was already over.
Most of the guests had dispersed, leaving only the Norwoods and the Millers.
Almost immediately, Preston spotted Jolene in the crowd, laughing and chatting with those around her.
He stormed forward and grabbed her hand. Panic and urgency filled his voice as he demanded, “Come with me!”
Before Jolene could respond, voices from their family cut through the air.
“Preston, what are you doing? This is your uncle and Jolene’s wedding. Why are you only showing up now, after it’s already over?”
Someone added, “Jolene and Cedric still need to return to the Norwood residence. What are you causing a scene for?”
“Preston Norwood, let her go! I can turn a blind eye to your usual antics, but this is your uncle’s wedding! Stop it, or there will be consequences!” Charles warned.
Despite the scolding from his elders, Preston remained stubborn. Rather than releasing Jolene, he tightened his grip on her wrist, causing her skin to redden from the pressure. She furrowed her brow. But just as she was about to speak, a low, magnetic voice rang out from behind Preston.
“Let go.”
Two words were all it took for Preston to release her hand. It was as if he had been shocked. He didn’t even dare to look back and simply muttered, “Uncle Cedric.”
Yet, Cedric didn’t respond.
In a flash, the crowd parted to make way for him as he strode toward Jolene. He took her hand and gently massaged it before shooting Preston a cold look.
“This is your Aunt Jolene,” Cedric announced.
The air grew heavy with tension.
Preston detested that title. However, Cedric’s overwhelming presence sent a wave of fear through him, making every hair on his body stand on end. A moment later, he whispered, “A–Aunt Jolene.”
