He Arrested My Father at Our Wedding Novel – Chapter 1 Five minutes after the wedding reception began, my husband suddenly rose from his seat. He walked toward the head table, pulled a pair of handcuffs from under his jacket, and snapped them around my father’s wrist. My father was sixty-three. He had spent his entire life teaching at a small public school in a rural county, living so modestly and carefully that he would not even accept homemade cornbread from his students’ parents. Twelve plainclothes detectives stood up from different tables and sealed off every exit. My husband shoved my father face-first against the table. I tried to rush over, but two people grabbed me and held me back. Without even turning around, he said, “Cooperate with the investigation. Do not interfere with an arrest.” Then he reached into the inside pocket of my father’s suit and pulled out a debit card. “You’re under arrest for allegedly taking seven million dollars in bribes.” My father’s monthly retirement income was barely over a thousand dollars, yet he said the card was tied to seven million.
My mother was so terrified that she collapsed to the floor, and no one helped her up. Three months earlier, he had been the one to suggest getting married. He had moved our wedding up by a full two years, and I had been overjoyed. He had seven scars from stab wounds on his body, each one a mark of what he had endured in the line of duty. He was one of the city’s most decorated law-enforcement officers, a Medal of Valor recipient. Everyone said I was lucky enough to marry the most honorable man in the world. I looked at him and asked, “You used our wedding to set a trap?” His lips moved, but no sound came out. My heart went completely cold. I stared at the side of his face and said calmly, “There’s no need to investigate. That seven million dollars is mine.” … “Say that again.” Logan Reed’s hand froze in midair, with the other end of the handcuffs still locked around my father’s wrist.
More than three hundred people were in the ballroom, and not a single person dared to make a sound. “That seven million dollars is mine.” I looked straight into his eyes and said each word clearly. “It has nothing to do with my father.” He slowly turned toward me. I had looked at that face for almost two years. I had kissed it, touched it, and traced its outline in the moonlight on nights when I could not sleep. Now there was no expression on it at all, as if every trace of emotion had been wiped clean. Only his eyes narrowed slightly. That was the expression he always used when questioning suspects. I had seen it in department commendation videos with him at least ten times. “Sienna Nolan, do you understand what you’re saying?” “I understand better than anyone else in this room.” My father’s face was still pressed against the table, and seafood chowder had spilled across half his collar. That suit was the most respectable one he had ever owned, and I had ironed it for him myself that morning. I tore myself free from the two people holding me, rushed to the head table, and helped my father up.
No one dared to stop me. Maybe it was because of what I had just said. Everyone seemed to be waiting for Logan’s order. “Dad, it’s all right.” As I wiped the chowder from his face, he looked at me with trembling lips, unable to get out a single word. My mother was still slumped on the floor. The two plainclothes detectives beside her exchanged awkward looks, but neither helped her up nor moved away. “In front of three hundred guests, twelve plainclothes detectives blocked every exit, and you shoved a sixty-three-year-old retired teacher’s face down onto a table.” My voice was steady. “Now I’m telling you the money is mine. So what are you going to do?” Logan walked up to me. With the ceiling lights behind him, his six-foot-one frame cast my entire body in shadow. “Then you’re coming with us.” He did not say my name. He did not call me his wife. He used that cold, impersonal “you.” It was the way he addressed suspects. “Fine,” I said. “But take the handcuffs off my father first.” “Procedure doesn’t allow that.” “What procedure? You arrested your own father-in-law at your own wedding, and now you want to talk to me about procedure?” He stayed silent for two seconds, then tilted his head and nodded to someone beside him. The handcuffs opened with a sharp click.
A deep red mark circled my father’s wrist. He rubbed it instinctively, then quickly hid his hand behind his back so I would not see. That almost made me cry. But everyone in charge of that room, including my husband, was law enforcement. Crying would not help. A woman stood up from the corner. Her hair was cut to her ears, and she wore a black suit with a body camera clipped to her blazer, the same kind Logan had. “Sienna.” Her voice was soft, as if she were coaxing a child throwing a tantrum. “The car is waiting outside. Let’s talk after we get in, all right? Don’t make Mr. Nolan keep standing here.” I had no idea who she was. But she spoke to me as if we were close. “Who are you?” She smiled, the curve of her mouth so precise it looked measured. “Detective Olivia Stone. I’m Detective Reed’s partner and the coordinating detective on this operation.” The case coordinator. She was his partner. She addressed him by his title. She had been involved in the arrest plan from start to finish. My husband had not made this decision alone. There had been an entire task force behind him.
Olivia walked over and rested a hand on my arm as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She did not use much force, but her fingers landed at exactly the angle that made it impossible for me to pull free. “Sienna, this way.” I looked back at Logan. He was speaking quietly with another plainclothes detective and did not even turn his head toward me. “Logan.” His movements paused, but he did not turn around. “How long did you spend on this?” Only then did he turn back. “What?” I looked at him and asked, “From the day you first walked into my life until today, how long did you spend setting this trap?” It felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the ballroom. More than three hundred pairs of eyes were fixed on the two of us. He did not answer. Olivia answered for him, with the faintest hint of amusement in her voice. “Sienna, we can talk about all of that once we get where we’re going. Don’t keep everyone waiting.”