Chapter 5 - Midnight Evacuation and the Unreachable Fortress
The ballroom erupted into pure chaos. Men in tuxedos stood on chairs to get a better look at the screens; women clutched their pearls in genuine shock. Derek lunged at me, his handsome facade entirely stripped away, revealing the violent, desperate predator underneath.
“You ruined my life!” he roared, reaching for my throat.
Before his hands could touch me, Marcus and two burly security guards stepped between us, pinning Derek’s arms behind his back and slamming him face-first onto the polished hardwood dance floor.
“Derek Sterling, you are trespassing on private property leased exclusively by the Vance-Montgomery Family Trust,” Marcus stated with icy professionalism. “If you resist, you will be restrained with zip-ties.”
“Get your hands off me!” Derek screamed, thrashing against the floor. “Claire! You signed the marriage certificate! You’re my wife! Everything you have is mine!”
I knelt down beside him, making sure my microphone was close enough to capture his heavy, panicked breathing.
“Check the registrar's copy, Derek,” I whispered so the entire room could hear. “The officiant was legally mandated to submit the license within twenty-four hours. My attorney revoked my signature at 4:15 PM, thirty minutes before I walked down the aisle. Legally speaking, we were never married. You’re just a con artist who threw cake at an heiress.”
I stood up, dropped the microphone onto his back, and turned toward the exit.
Lena, my parents, and our legal team flanked me as we walked out of the St. Regis ballroom. Behind us, the sounds of shouting, Patricia’s hysterical shrieking, and the flashbulbs of private investigator cameras filled the grand foyer.
We exited through the private subterranean garage where a convoy of black SUVs was waiting, engines running. As the heavy armored doors of the lead SUV slammed shut, I finally took a deep, unrestricted breath.
“Are we going to the uptown apartment?” Lena asked, checking her tablet.
“No,” my father said, patting my hand gently with a look of fierce pride. “The uptown apartment is in Derek’s GPS history. We’re going to the compound in Greenwich. Marcus has secured the perimeter. Vance has already filed the emergency injunctions.”
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My phone began to vibrate incessantly in my hand. Thirty missed calls from Derek. Twenty-four voicemails from Patricia. Over a hundred text messages from mutual friends, business associates, and board members.
I opened the window just an inch, feeling the cool midnight breeze against my face. For the first time in eighteen months, the suffocating weight in my chest was gone.
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