Chapter 3 - THE EXPULSION: WHEN HIGH SOCIETY DREAMS COLLIDE WITH HARD ARREST REALITY
Within thirty seconds, two uniformed private security guards strode into the grand foyer, their expressions professional and entirely unsympathetic as they took in the shattered vase on the floor and Vivienne’s tear-streaked, panicked face.
“You called, Mr. Sterling?” the lead guard asked, nodding respectfully.
“Escort Ms. Vivienne out of the estate,” Grant instructed, his voice as cold as ice. “She is no longer welcome on this property. Ensure she leaves behind all engagement jewelry and personal items purchased with my accounts. If she attempts to re-enter, call the county police immediately.”
“No! Don't touch me! Don't you dare touch me!” Vivienne shrieked, lashing out wildly as the two large guards stepped forward, grabbing her firmly by the arms.
“Let go of me, you rented thugs! Grant, you’ll regret this! My father will destroy your firm! You’ll never work in this city again!” she screamed, kicking her heels against the marble tiles as they dragged her unceremoniously toward the heavy mahogany front door.
Grant stood in the center of the foyer, watching her expulsion with absolute, unshakable calm.
He didn't flinch at her threats. He didn't feel a single pang of regret for the two years he had wasted trying to love a woman who was fundamentally incapable of empathy.
He felt only profound relief.
The heavy front door was yanked open, and Vivienne was hauled out onto the front porch, her expensive Louboutin heels scraping against the stone steps.
SLAM.
The front door slammed shut, cutting off her muffled, hysterical shrieks from the outside world.
The foyer fell completely silent once more.
Grant let out a long, shuddering breath, resting his head back against the wall, running a hand over his face.
He had dodged a bullet. A massive, catastrophic bullet that could have destroyed his son’s life and his own peace of mind permanently if he had discovered her true nature six weeks later after standing at the altar.
He reached into his breast pocket, felt the hard edge of the USB flash drive containing the security footage, and knew his next move.
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He needed to protect Tessa, reward her fierce loyalty, and ensure that Vivienne never, ever came within a hundred miles of little Noah again.
Grant walked slowly toward the grand staircase, his footsteps echoing in the quiet foyer as he headed upstairs to check on his son and the brave nanny who had saved him.
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