My Fiancé's Scam

My name is Miranda Zimmerman, and in three days, I will marry Jonas Crystal. We had long since booked the highly reputable lawn hotel on the city's outskirts. The contract clearly stated that the entire wedding package cost 300,000, and half of the deposit had already been paid. During this time, I was checking the wedding details almost every day—from the color of the table flowers to the seating arrangements—afraid that even the smallest mistake might slip through. After all, this was the wedding I had dreamed of for so long—the start of the happy life I imagined with Jonas Crystal. But three days before the wedding, one afternoon, I received a call from the hotel. The person on the line introduced herself as the new manager, Carrie Mussolini. Carrie's voice on the call was firm and unswerving. She said the original 300,000 package was no longer available, and I had to pay an extra 100,000 immediately—or else the wedding would be canceled. At first, I thought I must have misheard, so I confirmed several times before finally believing she wasn't joking. "Manager Mussolini, we signed a contract, and it clearly states thirty thousand. How can you just increase the price like that?" I tried to keep my voice calm, not wanting to lose my composure at such a critical moment. Carrie Mussolini snorted lightly, saying the contract was signed by the previous manager, but the hotel's management has changed, costs have gone up, and the previous price is no longer feasible. "Ms. Zimmerman, I'm simply following the regulations." She paused, her tone tinged with a trace of sarcasm. "There are only three days left until the wedding. Even if we switch hotels now, it's probably too late, right?" "If you don't want the wedding to fall apart, you'd better cooperate." I was so furious my hands shook. After hanging up, I immediately tried to reach Jonas Crystal, but his phone was unreachable. With no other choice, I had to go to the hotel myself to negotiate with Manager Mussolini. When I got to the hotel, I took out the signed contract and pointed to each clause, reasoning with Manager Mussolini word by word. "Manager Mussolini, look—the contract clearly states that neither party can unilaterally change the price; otherwise, they must bear responsibility for breach of contract." I'm pointing at the clause about breach of contract liability. "You're adding extra charges at the last minute, which is a breach of contract." Carrie Mussolini didn't even glance at the contract. She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, wearing an indifferent expression. "Ms. Zimmerman, contracts are rigid, but people are flexible." She looked up at me, her eyes full of contempt. "This is the hotel's current demand: either add another 100,000, or cancel the wedding. Your choice." "Cancel the wedding?" "And what about our deposit? What about everything we've already prepared for the wedding? Who's going to cover those losses?" I couldn't help but raise my voice, a tightness pressing on my chest. Carrie Mussolini stood up, straightened her suit jacket, and said, "The deposit can be partially refunded, but the losses... that's your problem." I watched her act so unreasonably, my heart pounding wildly, feeling as if something was choking my chest, making it hard to breathe. I knew Carrie was counting on the wedding being so close that I wouldn't dare cancel, which is why she felt free to demand such outrageous prices without hesitation.