Chapter 8: Touch of Class Grace groaned, rubbing her face as the heaviness of last night settled over her. Sleep had been elusive since her mind kept replaying Noelle’s tear-streaked face and trembling voice on an endless loop. The raw pain in her friend’s eyes had been gut-wrenching, leaving Grace with a hollow ache in her chest that hadn’t faded with the dawn. Today was supposed to be the day. Noelle and Adrian’s wedding day. A celebration of love, promises, and new beginnings. But now, it felt like a cruel mockery of everything Noelle had hoped for. Grace swung her legs off the bed, her bare feet meeting the cold floor. She sat there for a moment with her elbows resting on her knees, staring blankly at the unmade sheets. The silence in her mansion was deafening, almost taunting her with its stillness. With a sigh, she reached for her phone on the nightstand, her fingers hesitating for a moment before unlocking the screen. Surely Adrian would have called or texted by now. He had to have noticed that Noelle was gone, that their wedding day was unraveling before it even began. But the screen was empty. No missed calls, no frantic texts. Nothing to suggest that Adrian had the slightest idea of what had transpired. Grace clenched her jaw. The silence on his part somehow sparked a fresh wave of frustration within her. How could he be so oblivious? Wasn’t he supposed to be the man who loved Noelle, who promised her forever? She tossed the phone back onto the bed and ran a hand through her tangled hair. She pushed herself up sluggishly as she made her way to the kitchen. The familiar hum of the coffee maker filled the space was the only sound breaking the oppressive quiet. She leaned against the counter, folded her arms and stared on the farthest wall. Had Adrian even come home last night? Had he noticed the absence of Noelle’s presence, the empty space where she should have been? The idea that he might not have even realized she was gone made Grace’s stomach twist with anger and disbelief. Luckily, the coffee pot clicked, signaling it was done which took her mind off from her own anger. Grace poured herself a mug and stared into the swirling liquid, gripping the handle tightly as if it could anchor her thoughts. What had Noelle’s breaking point been? Was it truly the sight of Adrian and Bianca at the photoshoot, or had it been building long before that? Grace’s gut churned at the thought of Noelle silently carrying so much pain, hiding it until she couldn’t anymore. She took a sip of the coffee while mentally overcoming the part of her that wanted to grab her keys, march over to Adrian’s place, and demand answers. How could he not feel that something was wrong? Grace shook her head, setting the mug down harder than she intended. The sharp clang echoed in the kitchen, mirroring the chaos in her mind. She buried her face in her hands with her fingers pressing into her temples. Noelle’s words from last night came rushing back. “Please, Grace… don’t tell him I left. If he ever did forget about our wedding… if he doesn’t even notice I’m gone… then don’t remind him. Just… let him move on.” Grace sighed deeply, leaning back in her chair as the burden of the situation pressed down on her chest. Adrian was her cousin, her family, the one she’d always had a soft spot for despite his flaws. But Noelle… Noelle was more than just his fiancée. She was Grace’s friend, and now the one who needed her the most. “Goddamn it… this is so complicated,” Grace muttered out of frustration. She dragged her hands through her hair with her fingers tangling in the strands as she stared at her phone sitting on the table. The screen was blank, but it felt like it was mocking her, daring her to make a decision. With a groan, Grace snatched it up and scrolled through her contacts until she found the number she needed. She hesitated for a moment as her thumb hovered over the call button. Canceling the wedding would set off a domino effect of questions and chaos, but what choice did she have? Adrian clearly hadn’t noticed Noelle was gone, and Noelle had made it clear she wasn’t coming back. Taking a deep breath, Grace pressed the button and brought the phone to her ear. It rang twice before a chipper voice answered on the other end. “Hello, this is Amelia from Perfect Day Weddings. How can I assist you?” “Hi, Amelia, this is Grace Blackwood,” she said, forcing calm into her voice despite the storm raging in her mind. “I’m calling regarding the Blackwood-McGrath wedding scheduled for today.” “Ah, yes! Everything is set and ready to go. Is there something I can help with?” Grace closed her eyes, bracing herself. “Yes. I need you to cancel the wedding. Effective immediately.” There was a pause on the other end, followed by a stammered, “Cancel? But… today’s the wedding day! Are you certain?” “Yes, I’m certain,” Grace said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Contact everyone on the guest list and inform them that the wedding is canceled. I need this done discreetly. No details, no gossip. Just… tell them it’s off. We’ll also be sending out peace offerings.” “Understood,” Amelia replied cautiously. “What kind of items would you like us to send?” Grace tapped her fingers against the countertop. It had to be something grand, something that screamed wealth and sophistication to pacify the high-profile guests who would undoubtedly be raising eyebrows at the cancellation. “Send out bottles of Dom Pérignon vintage champagne,” Grace decided after a moment. “Accompanied by luxury gift baskets with artisanal chocolates, fine cheeses, and imported caviar. Include a handwritten note of apology, thanking each guest for their understanding and support during this difficult time. Keep the tone formal and respectful.” Amelia hesitated, clearly caught off guard by the extravagant request, but quickly recovered. “Of course, Ms. Blackwood. We’ll take care of it immediately.” “Good,” Grace said with a nod, even though Amelia couldn’t see her. “And Amelia… remember—absolute discretion. If I hear even a whisper of this cancellation outside of the guest list, I’ll investigate where it came from.” “Absolutely, Ms. Blackwood. You can count on us,” Amelia assured her. “Perfect. Thank you,” Grace said before hanging up. She placed the phone on the counter and exhaled deeply. Grace knew this move would come with its own set of consequences, but if there was one thing she’d learned from being a Blackwood, it was that problems were best handled head-on, and always with a touch of class.

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