Chapter 12 - Arrival at the Estate and the Celebrity Escort
The gala’s grand staircase curved majestically toward the mezzanine level, where city dignitaries and major investors had gathered to watch the evening’s keynote speeches. Elias guided me toward the base of the stairs, our entrance commanding absolute silence across the entire hall.
Grant finally found his voice, pushing his way through the stunned crowd of associates. He marched straight toward us, his face purple with rage, his veneer of corporate composure completely shattered.
“Nora! What the hell do you think you’re playing at?!” Grant shouted, stopping a few feet away, his finger trembling as he pointed at my rounded belly. “And who invited you into this building?! You don’t belong here! You’re nothing without me!”
The ballroom went deathly quiet. Every eye was locked on the confrontation.
Before I could utter a single word, Elias stepped forward, placing himself squarely between Grant and me. Elias stood a full head taller than Grant, his expression carved from stone. “Mr. Sterling,” Elias said, his voice deep, calm, and carrying an absolute authority that echoed off the vaulted ceilings. “I would watch your tone. You are speaking to the primary beneficiary of the Miller estate, and the mother of my children.”
The entire room gasped. Whispers exploded instantly. *‘His children?’ ‘Wait, she’s with Elias Ward now?’*
Grant stared at Elias in sheer incomprehension, his brain struggling to process the statement. “Your... your children? What are you talking about?! She was barren! She couldn't give me children for six years!”
“No, Grant,” I stepped out from behind Elias’s shoulder, my voice cutting through the noise like a razor blade. “I couldn't give *you* children. Because as Dr. Julian Vance’s medical reports proved in court this morning, you were sterile all along. You simply paid off a clinic administrator to pin your failure on me so you could steal my father’s company.”
Grant staggered backward as if he had been physically struck. “That’s... that’s a lie! A fabricated conspiracy!”
“Is it?” A sharp, clear voice rang out from the entrance of the ballroom.
May you like
All heads snapped toward the doors. Vanessa Vance stood there, breathless, her makeup slightly smeared, flanked not by Grant, but by two men in dark federal suits bearing FBI badges.
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