Chapter 4 - The Abandoned Altar
Before Grant could muster another word, the heavy double doors of the VIP suite swung open again. This time, it wasn't a security guard.
It was Sienna Vale.
She was still wearing her custom Vera Wang wedding gown, the intricate white lace train dragging slightly across the hospital floor, covered in a light dusting of gray street grime from the rain. Her veil was askew, her professional makeup streaked with angry tears, and her phone clutched in her manicured hand like a weapon.
"Grant Kingsley!" Sienna shrieked, her voice echoing off the sterile walls. "What the hell are you doing? The guests are sitting in the pews! The priest is looking at his watch! The livestream cameras are broadcasting to half of Manhattan, and you ran out of the church like a coward for her?"
Grant spun around, staring at the woman he had abandoned his entire life to marry. The sheer absurdity of the situation seemed to finally crack whatever fragile sanity he had left.
"Shut up, Sienna," Grant snarled, his voice thick with venom. "Just shut your mouth."
"Don't you dare tell me to shut up!" Sienna screamed, marching right up to him and jabbing a finger into his chest. "I gave up everything for you! I helped you fabricate those medical reports! I leaked the stories about her being barren to the press just so you could fast-track the divorce! And now you're standing here staring at her baby like a pathetic dog?"
The entire room went dead silent.
Even Dominic paused, his gaze shifting slowly from Grant to Sienna with an expression of cold, clinical amusement.
I didn't flinch. I had suspected Sienna’s hand in the tabloids for months, but hearing her confess to it so openly, in front of witnesses, felt like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place.
Grant’s face turned from ashen gray to a furious, violent purple. He grabbed Sienna’s arm, his fingers digging into her lace sleeve. "Are you out of your mind? Do you have any idea what you just said?"
"I don't care!" Sienna wailed, trying to yank her arm away. "The livestream is still running! My phone is connected to the church speakers in the vestry! The whole wedding party just heard every single word!"
My phone, resting on the bedside table, suddenly chimed with a notification. Then another. Then a dozen more.
Push notifications from every major news outlet and gossip blog in New York were flooding my screen.
BREAKING: Kingsley Global CEO’s Wedding Derails Amid Shocking Tabloid Confession!
“I helped you fabricate those medical reports!”: Bride’s Live Mic Catches Massive Conspiracy Against Ex-Wife!
Grant slowly let go of Sienna’s arm, his hands trembling violently as he pulled out his own phone. The screen was lit up like a Christmas tree. Dozens of missed calls from his board members, his lead legal counsel, and the primary investors of Kingsley Global were flashing simultaneously.
His empire wasn't just fracturing anymore. It was burning to the ground in real-time, broadcasted live to millions of viewers across the globe.
"You..." Grant whispered, looking at Sienna as if she were a ghost. "You destroyed me."
"I destroyed you?" Sienna laughed hysterically, her mascara completely ruined. "You destroyed yourself the second you thought you could replace a queen with a carbon copy! We're ruined, Grant! The board is already voting to oust you by morning!"
Dominic stepped forward, his shadow engulfing both of them.
"You have two minutes to remove yourselves from this room," Dominic said, his voice dropping into a register that brook zero argument. "Before I stop being polite and let my security detail throw you both out the window."
Grant didn't argue. He looked at me one last time—not with anger, not with arrogance, but with the hollow, broken expression of a man who had lost everything he ever owned. Then, turning on his heel, he pushed past a hysterical Sienna and fled down the hallway, leaving his ruined wedding, his betrayed bride, and his shattered legacy behind in the dust.
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Sienna stood alone for a second, sobbing openly before she turned and bolted after him, her designer heels clicking frantically down the corridor until the echoes faded into nothingness.
The room fell quiet once more, save for the gentle hum of the rain outside and the soft, steady breathing of my daughter.
