Chapter 5 - Unravelling LiesThe music stopped completely. The string quartet dropped their bows, and the courtyard descended into absolute chaos.
Victoria’s father, Richard Hawthorne—a stern, grey-haired man with commanding authority—stepped forward from the front row. He shoved Grant aside and confronted me directly.
“Young woman, this is a private estate,” Richard asserted, though his eyes darted uneasily to the baby sleeping soundly against my chest. “If this is some attempt at extortion—”
“It’s not extortion, Mr. Hawthorne. It’s an audit,” I interrupted cleanly. I broke the red wax seal on the envelope and pulled out the top stack of documents.
“Your prospective son-in-law didn't just abandon his family,” I said, turning so the surrounding high-society guests could hear every word. “He spent the last eighteen months transferring funds from Hawthorne Holdings’ offshore accounts into shell corporations in the Cayman Islands. Over four million dollars, Mr. Hawthorne. All signed off using your forged digital authorization.”
Richard’s face hardened instantly. He spun around to look at Grant. “Is this true?”
“No! She’s lying! She forged those!” Grant screamed, his voice cracking into an unhinged pitch. He charged down the altar steps toward me, his hands outstretched as if to grab the papers from my grip. “Give me those!”
Before Grant could reach me, Victoria’s brother, Julian Hawthorne, stepped between us, shoving Grant backward onto the flagstones.
“Don't you dare touch her,” Julian growled.
Grant scrambled back onto his feet, his tailored suit covered in dust. He looked around wildly, searching for an ally among the crowd of elites who were now staring at him with unmitigated disgust.
Victoria stood frozen, tears streaming down her face, smearing her makeup. She looked at the baby carrier, then at Grant, her voice cracking with heartbreak and outrage.
“Grant… you told me your first wife died in childbirth,” Victoria sobbed, taking off her engagement ring. “You told me the baby didn't survive!”
“She’s lying to you, Vic! She’s trying to ruin us!” Grant pleaded, reaching for her hands. “I love you! You know me!”
“I don't know you at all,” Victoria spat, throwing the diamond ring directly at his chest.
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I took three steps forward, holding out a smaller slip of paper—the original, sweat-stained hotel receipt from Las Vegas.
“You left this in the dirt, Grant,” I said softly. “Along with your silver cuff link. You forgot that even in Death Valley, traces of a coward remain.”
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