A Wedding Night Gone Terribly Wrong novel Chapter 146

Mrs. Channing, usually the picture of high-society poise, was enthusiastically playing photographer. Her joy was palpable, her smile stretching from ear to ear as she interacted with Seth and Annie.

"What is going on over there?" Demi blurted out, unable to hold back.

They had only spent a few minutes chatting among themselves. How had the entire dynamic across the hall completely flipped?

Shelly turned to Quentin. "Honey, what's happening over there?"

She assumed Quentin would know. After all, Winifred had relied on him for over three years. She clung to him and respected him—surely she would have told him if something important was going on.

"I don't know," Quentin said, his face ashen.

He genuinely had no idea. Ever since his slip-up last week, when he failed to show up for the kids' birthday party, Winifred had iced him out completely.

Shelly didn't buy it, but she didn't press the issue. Winifred was Quentin's untouchable sore spot, and pushing it would only make him explode.

When she looked back toward Room 6, her heart dropped.

Winifred had arrived.

And she looked absolutely radiant.

The moment she walked in, the entire group gravitated toward her. Mrs. Channing, who was standing closest, practically beamed, opening her arms wide for a warm embrace. Though Shelly couldn't hear what they were saying, she watched as Mrs. Channing patted Winifred's back affectionately and gently smoothed out her windblown hair. The warmth between them was undeniable.

Shelly stared, her mind spinning with a hundred questions.

Seeing Mrs. Channing approaching the door, Shelly desperately turned to her boyfriend. "Honey! Honey, come help me take it off! Hurry!"

Quentin just glared at her. If six hands couldn't get it off, his two weren't going to make a difference. He absolutely refused to humiliate himself by wrestling with a stolen bracelet in front of Mrs. Channing. He stood frozen, his face dark with suppressed rage.

Out of options, Shelly grew frantic. "Honey! Call a waiter! Get me some soapy water! No, just soap—get me a bar of soap!"

The slick foam would help the bracelet slide off.

But it was too late. Mrs. Channing had already stepped into the room.

Quentin looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. There was no way he was going to ask a waiter for soap now.