CHAPTER 178: CLIFFORD WAY OF HANDLING SITUATIONS

Nearby members of the Clifford family had no inkling of what was unfolding. Positioned at the front rows, they couldn’t see the shifting tide behind them. Though they noticed Jonathon whispering to Jacob, followed by his walk toward the stage, no one thought much of it. They assumed it was business as usual.

On the stage, Nicholas Clifford stood watching the slideshow... a carefully curated series of photographs that chronicled James and Jennifer’s shared memories. He was visibly pleased. The pictures showed a pair deeply in love... laughing in their school uniforms, walking hand-in-hand in their teenage years, celebrating birthdays, graduation. To him, it was a love story.

Nicholas had married the woman chosen for him by his family. But, against all odds, he had loved her deeply. He had never once betrayed her, not in word nor in deed. Even after her death, he had remained devoted. His life, and even much of his success in business, he often attributed to the peace and strength she had given him.

So, when James chose to marry for love... even if that love came from a second-rate family, Nicholas had been quietly supportive. The Whitmore name didn’t concern him. What mattered was that his grandson had chosen sincerely.

And with a great-grandchild on the way, it was, to him, the beginning of a new Chapter... a happy one.

But Jonathon’s sudden approach unsettled him.

"Dad," Jonathon said in a voice that those near them could hear, his face unusually tense, "there’s a problem with one of our recent contracts. I need your immediate guidance. Could you please come to the side for a moment?"

Nicholas turned to look at his eldest son. He saw the urgency in his eyes. Though reluctant to miss the final slides, he nodded and followed Jonathon to the far end of the stage, away from the guests’ view and earshot.

There, Jonathon turned to him and spoke in a hushed but deliberate tone.

"Father... I know this will sound melodramatic, but I beg you to promise me something first."

Nicholas’s eyes narrowed slightly. "What is it?"

"Whatever I’m about to show you... no matter how furious you feel, no matter what comes to mind... you must not react here. Not in front of all these people. Not at this event. We’ll deal with it at home. Calmly. Quietly. I need your word on that."

A frown tugged at Nicholas’s face. There was irritation, clearly. But after a long pause, he finally gave a slight nod.

"Very well. Speak."

Jonathon had been prepared. He pulled out his phone and swiped swiftly through the images. He showed a series of mid-folder photos... explicit images of James with multiple women. Faces were visible. Context unmistakable.

"These were just sent to every guest," Jonathon said grimly. "Check the crowd... they’re not watching the screen anymore. They’re all on their phones."

Nicholas followed his son’s gaze and saw the guests showing each other their screens and discussing in a hushed voice.

"That’s not the worst of it," Jonathon continued. "Yes, James has clearly been cheating, but we could’ve dealt with that privately. Disciplined him after marriage. But this..."

He swiped again, showing the explicit images of Jennifer Whitmore, entangled with various men.

"This is the bride with other men? We have to think about the baby... we can’t confirm it’s James’s. And even if a DNA test says so, who will believe it? Everyone will think we faked it to cover the scandal."

Nicholas’s entire face had changed colour. Rage surged just behind his calm facade. The betrayal... the humiliation... all playing out in front of Manchester’s most influential families.

Jonathon stepped closer and said, "Please, Dad... hold it in. You are Nicholas Clifford. The entire hall is watching. Let me handle the damage. I suggest we end the ceremony quietly. Walk away. I’ll clean the mess."

Nicholas clenched his fists. He looked as though he might erupt like a volcano straining against its crust. His breathing was heavy, his jaw tight. But in the end, he spat out a single command:

"Handle the mess."

With that, he turned and walked down the stage steps, his posture rigid, his expression thunderous.

Jonathon immediately followed. As Nicholas made his way through the crowd, a low ripple of attention followed him. Jacob, having understood the signal from his father, quickly strode forward and walked beside his grandfather, offering quiet support. Other Clifford family members, alerted by Jonathon’s silent gesture, joined them and followed the patriarch out of the hall without question.

Meanwhile, back on the stage, James was confused and anxious. He had seen his grandfather walking away and had rushed down the steps to find out what was going on.

"First Uncle, where’s Grandpa going?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

Jonathon barely paused and said, "Check your phone."

That was all he said before ascending the stage and turning to face the restless crowd. Seeing the head of the Clifford family looking at them, the murmurs quieted and they looked at him in attention.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Jonathon spoke clearly, voice authoritative, "on behalf of the Clifford family, I must apologise. One of our senior family members has suddenly fallen ill. So, we are forced to leave the ceremony."

There were whispers, awkward exchanges of glances.

"Please enjoy the dinner. The Clifford family will, of course, bear all expenses for tonight’s arrangements. Thank you for joining us today... we will issue another invitation soon."

With that, he offered a brief nod and stepped down. His face remained composed, but inside, he was already calculating how best to redirect the fallout.

The guests understood immediately. The wedding was off. Some of them began to quietly leave, slipping away as though they hadn’t seen the photos. Others lingered to gossip, eyes bright with scandal.

Near the exit, Grayson Marsh and Florence Mitchell were already walking briskly toward the car park. They didn’t stop to gossip like others. Their part in the night’s disruption was done... and now, they needed to disappear before anyone asked the wrong questions.

***

While the guests whispered and stared at their phones in mounting disbelief, James and Jennifer remained blissfully unaware. They were still immersed in the warm nostalgia evoked by the slideshow... holding hands, smiling, reminiscing about their youthful romance as images of school trips, birthdays, and seaside holidays flickered past.

Beside them, Phoebe stood silently next to Nicholas, her expression composed. On the opposite side, William and Jeanne clasped hands, watching the display with gentle smiles. To them, this was the crowning moment of their children’s journey... the culmination of love, honour, and social triumph.

But when Jonathon stepped onto the stage and discreetly ushered Nicholas aside, the first hints of tension crept in. Phoebe’s brow furrowed slightly, sensing something was off.

James noticed too.

He’d always known Jonathon resented him... especially since James had gained favour with his grandfather. Jonathon had long hoped his son, Jacob, would inherit the family mantle. Seeing the shift in Nicholas’s expression after Jonathon whispered to him, James’s stomach turned cold.

He turned to look at his friends for answers, but they were all frantically pointing at their phones. James didn’t understand. His own phone had been left with Benjamin Chen, his best man, so that he could focus on the ceremony.

On Jennifer’s side, she too sensed the oddity in the air. She’d left her mobile in the presidential suite, and now Willow White and her other bridesmaids were holding up their phones, clearly distressed and pointing at her.

"Why are they staring like that? What’s happening?"

Before James could make sense of it all, he caught sight of Nicholas walking out of the hall with a thunderous face. The other members of the Clifford family promptly followed.

"Grandpa?" James called out.

But they walked out as if they didn’t hear him. No one stopped. No one turned. They left him there, abandoned mid-ceremony, surrounded by murmuring guests and cameras.

As Jonathon climbed the stage again, James tried to ask him about the situation... only to be ignored. Jonathon made his curt announcement and exited the hall without sparing his nephew a glance.

A moment later, Benjamin stepped beside James and handed him the phone.

"James... I think you need to see this."

He opened the folder, swiped through a few images, then handed it to James. The screen showed explicit photos... James himself, in bed with various women. His face was clearly visible.

James stared at the screen. His mind went completely blank. He couldn’t think or speak. He didn’t even blink.

His friends gathered beside him, watching as the colour drained from his face.

Meanwhile, Phoebe, sharp-eyed and attuned to social atmosphere, had also pulled her phone from her purse. She, too, found the mysterious folder. She opened the first photo.

It was Jennifer... naked, tangled with a man not her son.

Phoebe’s jaw clenched. Her face turned crimson with fury. Without warning, she strode forward. In full view of the crowd, she slapped Jennifer hard across the face.

The sound cracked through the air like a gunshot. Gasps spread through the hall. Heads turned. Conversations died mid-whisper. Eyes widened.

"You filthy bitch!" Phoebe barked. "What the hell were you doing behind my son’s back, you whore!"

She shoved the phone in front of Jennifer’s stunned face. The screen showed the damning photo.