Chapter 6

After Eleanor’s champagne glass shattered, reporters trapped Sienna outside the conservatory.

One step forward would put her in the main livestream shot. One step back would return her to the ballroom with Eleanor and Julian.

“I’ll say it once,” Sienna told me. “Then I’m leaving.”

I moved the camera operator to the far end of the conservatory. Ruthie placed a microphone between us. More than nine hundred thousand people were watching.

Eleanor reached the doorway. “If you let her accuse me on camera, there will be no private resolution after tonight.”

I opened the glass door. “There isn’t much privacy left tonight.”

Sienna walked inside. Red filling stained her bridesmaid dress, and her hands were empty. My mother’s pearls were back in my pocket.

Reporters shouted questions. She ignored them and looked at me.

“Start at the beginning,” I said.

Sienna gripped her wrist. “Three months ago, Eleanor asked me to replace your maid of honor. She said you were busy with the company and the wedding, and Julian needed someone who would listen to him.”

Eleanor’s voice came from the doorway. “I asked you to help with the wedding. I did not ask you to seduce my son.”

Sienna closed her eyes, then continued.

“She made me attend every rehearsal with Julian, manage his schedule, and talk him out of canceling events. She expanded my access to Julian’s schedule and every private rehearsal. She also told me not to bother you with his complaints about the marriage.”

The changed seating plan and the rehearsals held without me finally made sense. So did Julian’s favorite new phrase: Sienna already handled it.

“When did it become something else?” I asked.

“After the menu tasting. He stayed to drive me home.”

“Eleanor never told me to sleep with him,” she said. “That part was mine.”

“You knew the wedding was still happening.”

“He told me you were already over.” Sienna began to cry. “He said all that remained between you was the company and a deal between your families. The wedding had to happen, but you had privately agreed the marriage was finished.”

I had agreed to nothing. That morning, I had still been revising the vows I planned to make to him.

“Then why was he still marrying me?”

Sienna looked through the glass door.

Julian stood outside among the reporters. He didn’t come in or answer for her.

Sienna lowered her head. “I don’t know.”

I muted her microphone. She had promised one account, not an open interrogation for the cameras.

Eleanor blocked my path as I left the conservatory.

“She’s protecting herself. If you treat her story as fact, you are publicly declaring war on the Ashford family.”

“You saw them before the ceremony.”

“I saw a problem that could be handled after the marriage.”

I walked past her. She didn’t follow.

When I returned to the bridal suite, Miles had spread the documents across the vanity.

“This election rejects the apartment, beach house, jewelry, and cash offered under the wedding agreement,” he said. “Once you sign, only the final item remains in your name.”

Ruthie checked the ballroom feed. “They’ll need an answer in twelve minutes.”

“Then give me twelve.”

Miles and Ruthie stepped into the hall. The bridal-suite camera faced the vanity, its tally light dark.

I opened my laptop, sent an email, then folded one page and slipped it inside my vow card. I struck the other assets, circled the final word, and signed.

Twelve minutes later, I opened the door.

Julian pushed past Ruthie. He saw my signature first, then the word inside the circle.

His hand stopped above the page. His lips went pale.

“Claire.” His voice shook for the first time. “You can’t take that.”

I capped the pen and looked at Ruthie.

“Switch the livestream to this room.”