Chapter 5 - The Morning AfterBy sunrise, the city's financial blogs and gossip columns had already exploded. Headlines like THE RENAISSANCE COLLAPSE: Judge Davies's Daughter Left at the Reception and Underworld Kingpin Roman Costa Crushes High-Society Wedding dominated the morning feeds. Photos of me in my $6,200 black silk dress, arm-in-arm with Roman Costa while Caleb and Khloe looked like ghosts, were plastered everywhere.
I was sitting in my tiny apartment—the same apartment Caleb had left me stranded in—sipping black coffee when a knock sounded at the door.
When I opened it, I didn't expect to see Caleb Reynolds standing there.
He looked like a man who had aged ten years overnight. His tuxedo was wrinkled, his hair unstyled, and his eyes were bloodshot. He smelled faintly of stale scotch and desperation.
"Sadi," he breathed, taking a ragged step forward. "Please. You have to help me."
I didn't move an inch. I crossed my arms, leaning against the doorframe. "Help you, Caleb? With what? Your new marriage? Your real estate portfolio?"
"Khloe’s father is destroying me," Caleb choked out, his voice cracking with genuine panic. "He’s freezing my accounts, threatening to disbar me, and the feds are already auditing the firm. Judge Davies said the only way he won't bury me in federal prison for financial fraud is if I sign a full retraction and return every cent of the wedding gifts. Sadi... you know people. You've been spending time with Costa."
"You think I can ask Roman to save you?" I let out a cold, humorless laugh. "Caleb, you spent seven years convincing me I was worthless. You drained our accounts, left me with your debts, and spelled my name wrong on your wedding invitation just to make sure I knew I didn't matter. And now you're standing on my doorstep begging me to fix the mess you made?"
"I made a mistake!" he shouted, lunging forward as if to grab my shoulders.
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Before his hands could touch me, a heavy hand clamped onto the back of Caleb’s jacket collar. Two of Roman’s private security guards appeared out of nowhere, hauling Caleb backward and slamming him against the hallway wall with practiced efficiency.
Roman stepped out from the stairwell, adjusting his cuffs. He looked at Caleb the way a scientist looks at a particularly uninteresting specimen under a microscope.
