…a sudden, unexpected commotion erupted at the far end of the ballroom. Cutlery clinked to a stop, and a ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd. I turned just in time to see a man—wearing a suit jacket over a casual t-shirt—striding confidently toward the head table. His presence seemed wildly out of place in the formal setting.
Robert’s grip on my hand tightened. “We need to leave. Now,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the murmuring crowd.
“What’s happening?” I asked, panic creeping into my chest.
“I’ll explain in the car,” he replied, scanning the room with intensity.
We tried to make a discreet exit, weaving through the rising chatter. Jessica noticed the disruption, her smile faltering. I offered a quick, uncertain reassurance before we slipped out.
Once in the car, silence enveloped us. My heart raced, questions swirling with every passing streetlight. Finally, Robert broke the quiet.
“You really didn’t notice?” he asked, disbelief and concern lacing his tone.
“Notice what?” I pressed, unease gnawing at me.
“The man who interrupted… he’s a private investigator,” Robert explained. “He’s been looking into David for some time.”
