Chapter 1 - The First Slice of Ruin
The first piece of our wedding cake never reached my mouth. Without warning, Grant grabbed the back of my neck and shoved my face hard into three tiers of buttercream. He held me there while two hundred guests gasped—and his groomsmen howled with laughter.
I smelled vanilla and champagne. Frosting filled my eyelashes. A sugar rose slid down my ivory gown—the dress I had painstakingly sewn my late mother’s pearls into.
His mother, Eleanor, actually clapped. "Now she finally looks sweet!" Grant laughed, posing for his friends' phone cameras.
I straightened up slowly. My cheek burned from striking the cake stand. The man gripping my arm wasn't the charming man who had courted me. This was a man who thought he had just permanently trapped a walking ATM to save his family's failing hotel empire.
"You're my wife now, Claire. Stop being dramatic," he whispered, squeezing my arm tightly.
Instead, I wiped the frosting from my eyes, slowly slid the diamond ring off my finger, and dropped it onto the ruined cake. "I’d rather walk away right now than spend my life trapped with you."
Grant rolled his eyes. But he forgot one crucial detail: I built my investment firm from absolutely nothing. The Vances knew I was wealthy; they just delusionally thought that made me easy to own.
I pulled out my phone and dialed my chief counsel on speaker. "Mara," I said, holding Grant’s gaze. "Stop the Vance wire. Cancel the hotel bailout. Activate Clause Twelve."
The room completely froze. Eleanor stopped clapping. Grant’s father stared at his phone in absolute horror as an emergency alert flashed across his screen.
May you like
Grant’s smug smile vanished. He tightened his grip, his voice shaking. "What did you just do?"
I smiled back. "I walked away. Now you’re going to learn exactly what that costs..."
