Chapter 5 - The Collapse of an EmpireThe fallout was swift, merciless, and broadcast across national headlines before midnight.
By the time the gala dissolved into chaos and the police escorted Vivienne Cross out of the ballroom under a barrage of flashbulbs, the damage to the Prescott family empire was already catastrophic.
Back in the executive suite of the Hawthorne Grand, the silence was suffocating.
The heavy mahogany door swung open, and Nathan walked in. The confident, immaculate CEO in the tailored tuxedo was gone. His tie was ripped off, his collar unbuttoned, his hair disheveled. He looked ten years older than he had two hours ago.
“Are you insane?” Nathan’s voice was a hoarse, broken whisper as he slammed the door shut. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Prescott Industries’ stock dropped four percent in after-hours trading because my wife hijacked a national broadcast to air a personal vendetta!”
I sat calmly on the velvet sofa, sipping a glass of ice water, watching him unravel.
“My name is Rose, Nathan,” I said quietly, correcting him for the first time. “Not Isabelle. Isabelle was the quiet little ghost you married because you wanted someone who would never challenge you.”
Nathan let out a harsh, bitter laugh, pacing across the carpet. “You ruined everything! My reputation, my connections, my standing on the board! My mother is having palpitations in the car right now! How could you do this to me?”
“To you?” I tilted my head, studying him with detached curiosity. “Nathan, you never asked me who I was. For four years, you treated me like a piece of furniture you bought to decorate your penthouse. You watched your mother belittle me. You watched your friends mock my background. And tonight, before I even walked into this hotel, you threatened to throw me out on the street if I embarrassed you.”
“I was stressed!” Nathan yelled, grabbing the back of a chair. “That’s what husbands do in my position—they protect their image!”
“No,” I stood up, smoothing the fabric of my gray dress, my eyes locking onto his with absolute ice. “That’s what tyrants do. And your tyranny is officially over.”
I reached into my handbag, pulled out a thick envelope, and tossed it onto the coffee table between us.
Nathan glanced down at it, frowning. “What is this?”
“Divorce papers,” I said simply. “Filed ten minutes ago by my legal team. Furthermore, my attorneys have already initiated a forensic asset audit of Prescott Industries, because as it turns out, using corporate foundation funds to finance your mistress’s musical debut constitutes felony embezzlement.”
Nathan’s face went entirely white. He stared at the envelope as if it were a venomous snake. “You... you can’t do that. We have a pre-nup. You walked into our marriage with nothing!”
“I walked in as Rose Delaney,” I replied coldly. “And I’m walking out as the rightful owner of the entire catalog of musical copyrights currently generating millions under Vivienne Cross’s fraudulent label. The royalties alone will strip you down to your last custom suit.”
He took a staggering step forward, his hands trembling as he reached out toward me. “Rose... wait. Let’s talk about this. We can fix this. We’re husband and wife. I can be better—I can take you back—”
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“Don't touch me,” I said, stepping back with a look of absolute disgust. “I’m not the girl you brought home from Vermont, Nathan. I survived a car crash that should have killed me. I survived fourteen years of silence. Do you honestly think a sinking corporate shark like you can scare me now?”
Without waiting for his answer, I turned away from him, walked out of the suite, and closed the door behind me forever.
