The Champagne on the Blue Blanket
Chapter 01 - The Champagne on the Blue Blanket
The champagne struck Adrian Blackwood’s lap before the wedding musicians finished the first note.
A crystal flute shattered against the white marble terrace. Pale gold liquid soaked the navy blanket covering Adrian’s legs and spread beneath the wheels of his chair.
Camilla Blackwood stood over him in an emerald-green gown, breathing hard.
Around them, one hundred eighty guests went silent beneath the flowered arches of Blackwood Manor. The bride remained frozen near the steps. The groom—Adrian’s younger brother, Lucas—did not move from the altar.
Camilla pointed at Adrian.
“You have ruined enough family celebrations.”
Adrian wore a tailored beige suit and a navy tie. Eighteen months earlier, a car crash had damaged his spine and ended his work as chief executive of Blackwood Hotels. Since then, the family spoke to him slowly, made decisions around him, and treated the wheelchair as if it had swallowed the man.
He looked at the broken glass.
“I refused to sign a sale agreement. That is not the same as ruining a wedding.”
“This wedding is not about your paperwork.”
“It begins twenty minutes after the board vote you hid in the reception schedule.”
A murmur moved through the guests.
Camilla reached down and seized the wet blanket.
Adrian caught one edge.
“Leave it.”
She pulled harder.
“Why? Are you afraid everyone will see what helplessness really looks like?”
The blanket slid from his knees and fell onto the marble.
His trousered legs remained still on the footrests. His polished brown shoes reflected the afternoon light.
Camilla leaned close enough for only the front rows to hear.
“You cannot even stand. Yet you think you can stop this family from moving forward.”
Adrian’s expression did not change, but his right hand tightened around the wheel rim.
A woman in a black housekeeper’s uniform rushed from beside the catering doors.
Nora Reyes picked up the blanket before a waiter could step on it.
“Ms. Blackwood, please step away.”
Camilla laughed.
“The maid is giving orders now?”
Nora ignored her. She shook the glass fragments from the fabric and draped it carefully over Adrian’s legs.
As she tucked one corner beneath his hand, her fingers touched something hard inside the hem.
A narrow metal object.
The stitching had split where Camilla yanked the blanket.
Adrian looked down.
Nora saw recognition in his eyes.
Camilla saw it too.
She lunged for the cloth.
Nora folded the torn edge beneath her palm.
The bride finally spoke.
“What is inside that blanket?”
Before anyone answered, the mansion’s security alarm began ringing.
Not the fire alarm.
The private archive alarm Edward Blackwood had installed before his death.
Adrian looked toward the west wing.
May you like
Then at Nora.
“My father’s key,” he whispered. “She just found it.”
