A Gold Digger, an Affair, and a Bloodied Chocolatey Corpse

Part I.

Shattered glass litters the floor, and clumps of crab meat cling to the wall. Tattered rose petals wilt on the once golden carpet, a small fire from a fallen candelabra has scorched a tablecloth, and one solo black pump rests abandoned on the dance floor.

Police sirens blare, as the state troopers rush towards the scene.

No one could have predicted that this night, of all nights, would end in this epic chaos.

If only he was not a cheat, if only she did not love for money, if only everyone did as they were told, if only that slut didn't show up.

As far as weddings go, this one will go down in history.

Part II.

Maisie, unlike most brides, did not want a big wedding. In fact, she dreads the idea of marrying her fiancé in front of hundreds.

A simple ceremony in the back yard of her parents' Petoskey lakefront property would have sufficed. But, her fiancé, Evan J. Rutherford III does not do quaint, and definitely does not do small.

The Rutherfords come from old money, and they do everything in their power to ensure that each and every associate, accomplice, friend, and foe knows exactly that.

For the Rutherford men, each day begins with a pristine Armani suit, the finest Kona coffee beans freshly transported from the Big Island, and a cup brewed by a personal barista.

After, the Rutherford's pilot, Antonio personally transports the pair via their Bell 525 black chrome helicopter to their Manhattan office.

The father and son duo dominate the industry, strong arm oil tycoons, buy politicians, and between the pair, personally fund the New York prostitution market.

Which is why, it was such a surprise that Evan III proposed marriage to a mere midwestern commoner.

The world-wind romance came to life after three short months, killer oral sex during a drunk joyride in Daddy's Bentley, and a shocking engagement that even left Maisie herself perplexed.

But the heart wants what the heart wants.

And who could ever turn down a life of sipping chardonnay in the Hamptons, and yachting through the Caribbean.

Part III.

Taking the helm of all planning, Evan III's stepmother, and Evan Junior's fourth wife, Debra approaches the upcoming nuptials like they were her own. Maybe she saw it that way as she and Evan Junior eloped because Debra feared if she did not lock Evan Junior down quickly, he would move on to some other blonde with a killer size two body.

Taking her duties seriously, Debra spent exorbitant sums on the finest china, the fanciest silk, exquisite cuisine, and a six tiered chocolate cake all in an attempt to ensure that the ceremony met the Rutherford's standards of perfection; a task impossible for a farm girl from Michigan.

As it was, Maisie's head was spinning with doubt about her suitability as the future Mrs. Evan Rutherford III, and in fact, welcomed Debra's aid.

All she wanted was to marry her Evan quickly and live happily ever after.

Part IV.

The day of the wedding is picture perfect. Blue skies, 72 degrees, and not a cloud in sight, but Maisie should have known that appearances can be deceiving.

Draped in a custom Vera Wang wedding gown, Maisie shivers at the thought of any of the 477 guests noticing the pimple that erupted on her chin. Hiding the flaw with foundation and meticulously applied powder, Maisie prays no one will see her imperfection, the pimple or otherwise.

During the ceremony, Maisie and Evan III stand beneath a massive arch of garden roses, exchange vows, and after a perfunctory and chaste kiss, the crowd flashes fake smiles and putters their hands together in hollow golf claps.

Then, the real fun begins.

Part V.

Entering the ballroom, Maisie sucks in a deep breathe as she is overwhelmed by its decadence.

White clothed tables are dressed in elegant blue and white china, silver candelabras, and thousands of artfully displayed white roses, hydrangeas, and lilies.

In the center of the room, the four foot, six tiered chocolate wedding cake embellished with spun sugar pale pink roses and edible blue pansies, towers over the guests in its architectural beauty. Flanking its side is a beautiful diamond encrusted carving knife, an iconic family heirloom bestowed to the Rutherford's Great Great Great Great Great Great Grandfather by the legendary King of the Franks, Charlemagne.

Overwhelmed and insecure, Maisie shudders in place, doing everything in her power to appear confident and flawless.

Noticing Maisie's poorly concealed angst, Debra attempts to crease her botox riddled face into the closest thing resembling a smile, places her veiny hand on the small of Maisie's back, and proclaims, "Bask in the luxury, sweetheart; for most, this day is the closest they will ever come to being a princess. For you and I, the lovers of the Rutherford men, this is merely the first of many."

Maisie could only gulp.

With her attention fixated on perfecting the wedding of the century, Debra fails to notice that her husband, Evan Junior had been intimately courting the arrival of his secretary, Sabrina.

To most this may seem an insignificant detail, but Evan Junior had recently been enjoying swanky romantic dinners at Nobu, partaking in secret trips to the Ritz Carlton, making expensive purchases at Cartier, and at the center of all of it, engaging in a steamy hot affair with Sabrina.

While planning the wedding, Debra missed the telltale signs of the red lipstick on his starched white shirt, the lingering smell of Dior perfume, and most damning of all, Evan Junior's disinterest in making use of his wrinkly small penis.

Maybe there was a small niggle of concern in Debra's money obsessed brain, but Debra had brushed it aside; after all, her allowance had been in no way desecrated, and to her, at least presumably, that was all that really mattered.

Part VI.

Stationed strategically in the center of the room near the stunning wedding cake, Debra heads the receiving line.

Hovering in her shadow, Sabrina leans into the side of Evan Junior in a sexy body-contouring Herve Leger.

The two sport devious smiles, making Debra, who knew the guest list inside out, question, who in the fuck invited her?

As she curtsies in her elegant gown to a royal prince, Debra feels a warm whisper tickle her ear.

"Only white trash would ever approve of a chocolate cake. When I am number five, I will never stain the good name of the Rutherfords."

With rage seething through her veins, Debra retaliates, hurling her champagne at Sabrina, and hissing, "Whore!"

Without missing a beat, Sabrina lifts the top tier off the cake, and smashes it in Debra's face.

Fury erupts, and the two women engage in a full out cat fight, nails scratching, dresses tearing, teeth barring, and primal shrieking.

At some point, while tangling on the floor, Debra frees her left hand, finds the diamond encrusted knife, and plunges it into Sabrina's breast.

Again.

Again.

and…

Again.

In shock, the guests stand paralyzed as blood sprays the crowd like a sprinkler, leaving a fine mist of red blood dotting their clothes.

As the dark liquid pools on the carpet, Sabrina's once sharp eyes lose focus and fade to a vacant stare.

There is an unspoken consensus that the victim is dead.

Watching from afar, Maisie mutters to herself, "At least no one noticed my zit."