Damien's grip tightened further around Eleanor's arms before he shoved her forcefully away from the red carpet entirely, sending her stumbling backward until she lost her balance completely, falling hard onto her hands and knees against the pavement. "Get out, you trash!" he shouted, his voice carrying sharp, unmistakable cruelty across the stunned wedding venue.
Eleanor remained on the ground, struggling desperately to regain her footing, her blue sweater now smudged with dirt from the fall. Her hands trembled slightly as she pressed against the pavement, attempting to rise despite the humiliation and physical discomfort of the sudden assault.
Guests throughout the ceremony gasped audibly, the earlier scattered murmuring now transforming into open, horrified whispers as several began reaching for their phones, documenting the shocking cruelty unfolding before them. Nobody yet moved to physically intervene, though the collective discomfort rippling through the crowd had grown palpable.
Priscilla watched the scene with visible satisfaction, seemingly unaware or entirely unconcerned about the growing unease radiating from her assembled wedding guests. Whatever image of gracious hospitality she had hoped to project throughout today's celebration had completely evaporated in the aftermath of her violent, public outburst.