Chapter 4 - The Eviction of the Pretenders
The ballroom descended into utter pandemonium.
Chloe’s new husband, a wealthy plastic surgeon named Bradley whose family had spent the evening bragging about their status, took off his boutonnière, threw it onto the floor, and looked at Chloe with pure disgust.
“You lied to me,” Bradley snarled, his voice loud enough for fifty guests to hear. “You told me your family owned half this hotel! You told me your brother ran the biggest fund in Chicago! You’re nothing but a pack of broke, fraudulent grifters!”
“Bradley, please!” Chloe wept, grabbing his tuxedo jacket. “Don't leave me! We just got married!”
“The marriage certificate hasn't been filed with the county clerk yet,” Bradley spat, ripping his arm from her grasp. “And it never will be. I’m calling my lawyer to annul this nightmare tonight.”
Bradley turned on his heel and stormed out of the ballroom, followed by his entire family and half the wedding guests.
Eleanor fell to her knees beside Dominic, sobbing hysterically. “Vivienne! Please! We are family! Think of your unborn child! Think of the baby’s grandmother!”
I stepped forward from beneath my father’s coat, looking down at the woman who had spent three years treating me like an unpaid servant.
“You lost the right to be a grandmother the second you put your hands on me,” I said with ice in my veins. “You tore my clothes hoping to destroy my dignity. But all you did was expose your own filth.”
I turned to Julian Vance. “Julian.”
“Yes, Madam Chairwoman?”
“Cut the power to the sound system. Instruct the catering staff to clear the tables and pack the food for the local women’s shelter. Inform all remaining guests that the reception is officially terminated.”
“Right away, Madam.”
Julian raised his radio. Within seconds, the grand crystal chandeliers dimmed to a stark, harsh utility light. The soft ambient music died completely. Dozens of banquet staff marched in, swiftly removing silverware, plates, and unfinished bottles of champagne from every table.
Dominic crawled across the floor toward me, grabbing the hem of my father’s overcoat. Tears and snot ran down his face, completely stripping away whatever handsome veneer he had once possessed.
“Vivienne, please don't do this,” Dominic begged, his voice cracked and raw. “I love you. I made a mistake! I was scared of my mother! I was weak! Give me one more chance to be a father to our child!”
Arthur Montgomery stepped between Dominic and me, his heavy oxford shoe planting itself firmly on the marble floor inches from Dominic’s trembling fingers.
“You are not a father, Dominic,” Arthur said coldly. “A real man protects his wife with his life. You sacrificed yours for the approval of a venomous mother and a spoiled sister. You will not see my daughter again. Any contact will go through our legal team.”
Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder with every passing second until flashing red and blue lights illuminated the grand glass facade of the hotel lobby.
Six Chicago police officers entered the ballroom, led by a detective holding an arrest warrant.
Julian Vance pointed directly at Chloe, Eleanor, and Amanda. “Officers, those three individuals. We have preserved the surveillance footage and physical evidence of grand larceny, filing a false police report, and felony assault on a pregnant woman.”
As the handcuffs clicked around Chloe’s wrists, she shrieked and fought like a feral animal, her designer wedding veil tearing against the officer’s badge. Eleanor fainted dead away onto the floor, and Amanda sobbed as she was marched toward the exit.
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Dominic sat alone on the cold marble floor, surrounded by dirty napkins, broken champagne glass, and the ruined remnants of an empire he never truly owned.
I turned my back on him, took my father’s arm, and walked out into the cool evening air without looking back once.
