Chapter 5 - Alden’s Exit
For three seconds, the only sound in the grand lobby was the echo of Sutton’s recorded laughter bouncing off the glass atrium.
Then, movement stirred near the arched doorway leading to the private groom's suite. Alden stepped into the lobby. He wasn't wearing his tuxedo jacket; his crisp white shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and his face was completely drained of color. He had been standing just out of sight when the audio started, listening to every syllable of the woman he was supposed to marry in less than twenty-four hours.
Sutton spun around, her eyes widening in genuine panic as she spotted him.
“Alden—wait—don't listen to that!” she stammered, her voice cracking for the first time, all the rehearsed glamour stripping away to reveal pure, frantic desperation. “It’s AI! It’s a deepfake! Fallon hired someone to sabotage us because she’s jealous that I’m getting married and she’s sitting in a wheelchair!”
Alden didn't yell. He didn't throw a punch. He walked past Althia and Stellin as if they were invisible ghosts, stopping five feet from the base of the staircase where Sutton stood clutching the polished wooden banister.
“I was standing right around the corner yesterday when she fell, Sutton,” Alden said, his voice terrifyingly quiet, shaking with a cold fury I had never heard from him before. “I heard the crack. I heard you laugh. And when I asked you in the hallway if you pushed her, you told me she was a clumsy idiot who tripped over her own crutch.”
“Alden, please, we’re getting married tomorrow, the guests are here, the caterers are paid—!”
“The caterers aren't paid,” Sarah Sterling interjected smoothly, holding up a certified bank freeze notice. “In fact, the master ledger for this entire resort weekend was funded by twelve thousand five hundred dollars stolen directly from Ms. Carter’s corporate account. The resort has already been notified of fraudulent tender, and their legal department is currently revoking your event permits.”
Alden looked down at Sutton, his expression hardening into absolute disgust. He slowly slid the heavy platinum and diamond engagement ring off his left ring finger, walked to the small mahogany table near the concierge desk, and dropped it onto the polished wood with a sharp, final clink.
“Call the guests, Sutton,” Alden said flatly, turning his back on her without another glance. “Tell them the wedding is canceled. Tell them whatever lie you want. But I’m calling my parents, packing my bags, and filing an annulment of our engagement before noon.”
“Alden! ALDEN!” Sutton shrieked, lunging forward down the stairs—and promptly catching her stiletto heel in the exact same decorative brass stair trim where she had tripped me twenty-four hours earlier.
She didn't fall all the way down, but she stumbled hard, landing heavily on her knees against the unforgiving marble. No one rushed to help her. My mother stood frozen in horror, while my father stared blankly at the floor as if his entire reality had dissolved into ash.
Marcus gently wheeled my chair forward, Sarah walking beside me as we turned toward the glass exit doors.
“Come back!” Althia sobbed, her aristocratic facade completely shattered as she clutched at the air. “Fallon, please! We’re your family! You can’t do this to us!”
May you like
I paused near the threshold, looking back at the three people who had spent my entire life teaching me that my survival, my health, and my dignity were entirely secondary to their social vanity.
“I didn't do this to you, Mom,” I said softly. “You built a house out of glass, and you finally ran out of stones.”
