Chapter 3 - The Gathering of the Wolves
By noon, the church ceremony was over, and the grand doors of the Plaza de San Jose ballroom swung open to receive the three hundred elite guests.
The atmosphere was electric with the scent of wealth. The groom's family, headed by the patriarch Jonathan Sy, occupied the grand VIP tables nearest to the stage. They were a family of steel and stone, known in the business community for their absolute intolerance for scandal, debt, or dishonesty.
Chloe, the bride, floated through the room like a princess, her heavy lace gown trailing behind her. She laughed at every joke her new husband made, her eyes constantly scanning the room to ensure everyone was admiring her.
Teresa was in her element. She flitted from table to table, holding a glass of expensive champagne, her voice carrying over the music as she received congratulations.
"Oh, yes, the flowers were flown in from Holland," Teresa told a group of wealthy socialites. "I told the coordinator, 'Only the best for my Chloe.' It was a bit of a stretch for our family budget, of course, but a Santos always provides a legacy of elegance."
I stood near the back of the room, near the service entrance.
Leo was sitting quietly on a chair next to a kind-hearted waitress named Maya, who had brought him a small plate of plain rice and chicken from the staff kitchen. His cheek was still puffy, but he was calm, holding a small toy car I had retrieved from my purse.
Mark approached me, his tie slightly askew, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He looked irritated.
"Why are you standing back here like a servant?" he whispered, grabbing my wrist. "Come to our table. People are asking why my wife isn't sitting with the family."
"Your family table doesn't have a seat for me, Mark," I said, looking at the main table where Teresa, Chloe, David, and the Sy family were seated. There were ten chairs, and all of them were occupied.
"Don't start with your dramatic nonsense again," Mark snapped. "My mother had to seat David's aunts there. It's about politics. Just sit at the back table with the distant relatives. And make sure Leo doesn't make any noise. David’s father is very sensitive to children running around."
"Don't worry," I said, looking him dead in the eye. "Leo won't be running around."
Just then, the music swelled, and the master of ceremonies took the microphone.
"Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished guests, please raise your glasses as we welcome the newlyweds and their families to the stage for the traditional grand toast and thanksgiving!"
The crowd applauded. Chloe and David walked hand-in-hand up to the elevated platform, followed by Teresa and the Sy parents. Mark smiled proudly and made his way to the stage to join them, leaving me standing alone by the trash bins.
Teresa took the secondary microphone, her chest swelling with pride as she looked out at the three hundred members of Manila's high society.
"Thank you all for being here today," Teresa said, her voice echoing beautifully through the expensive sound system. "As the matriarch of the Santos family, it has been my ultimate honor to single-handedly prepare this beautiful celebration for my daughter. It wasn't easy. In these modern times, so many families lose their way, forget their dignity, and rely on others. But we Santos women... we pay our own way. We preserve our honor. And today, we welcome the Sy family into our legacy of pride and success."
The crowd smiled. Jonathan Sy nodded politely, though his eyes remained sharp and calculating.
From my pocket, my phone buzzed.
May you like
It was a text from Clara: Notices served to the hotel management and the caterer. Receipts and payment revocations uploaded to the registry. The venue manager is on his way to the stage.
I took a deep breath, patted my dress down, and began walking toward the center aisle.
