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The Chicago autumn air bit sharply against my skin as my private towncar glided past the wrought-iron gates of The Grandview Estate. Eight days had passed since I answered Adrian’s gloating phone call from a hospital bed. Eight days of pumping breast milk into sterile bottles, securing the best forensic accountants money could buy, and tailoring a custom sapphire-blue Dolce & Gabbana gown that draped over my postpartum frame with terrifying, effortless elegance. / Chapter 8 / 10

Chapter 8 - The Fall of the House of VanceThe federal agents didn't waste another second. They stepped forward, grabbing Adrian by both arms.

“Get your hands off me! Do you know who I am?!” Adrian thrashed wildly, screaming like a madman as the steel handcuffs snapped securely around his wrists. “Arthur! Tell them! Arthur, help me!”

Arthur Sterling turned his back on him with absolute disgust, adjusting his lapels. “Take the trash out of my sight,” the billionaire muttered to the officers.

Celeste collapsed onto the floor, sobbing uncontrollably into her Vera Wang wedding dress as a female officer gently hauled her to her feet, placing her under immediate arrest alongside her disgraced fiancé.

Flashbulbs illuminated the grand ballroom like a lightning storm. Reporters shouted questions over the din of screaming guests, eager to capture every humiliating detail of the billionaire wedding that turned into a federal raid.

I stood tall in the center of the room, completely unbothered by the chaos swirling around me. I smoothed down the front of my sapphire gown, picked up my leather folder, and turned around to face the grand exit.

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As the guards escorted Adrian past me in handcuffs, he locked eyes with me one last time. His expression wasn’t arrogant anymore. It was a mask of sheer, bottomless terror and regret.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the officers shoved him forward, dragging him out into the cold Chicago night.

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