Chapter 5 - The Escape
“You can’t do this!” Eleanor suddenly shrieked, dropping the elegant facade entirely. Her face twisted into a mask of pure panic. “The guests are downstairs! The caterers are paid! You are ruining our family’s reputation!”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. It was a dry, hollow sound. “Your reputation, Eleanor, is the least of your problems. I’d be more worried about the private lenders holding the deed to your home.”
I turned my back on them. “Sienna, help me unzip this.”
Sienna, who had been standing frozen by the door, snapped into action. She marched over, glaring daggers at Julian, and swiftly pulled the zipper down the back of my gown.
I stepped out of the heavy silk dress, leaving it in a puddle of white fabric on the floor. I grabbed my jeans and the simple black turtleneck I had worn to the hotel that morning. I pulled them on, feeling the armor of my old life sliding back into place.
“Harper, please, we can fix this,” Julian begged, his voice cracking with genuine desperation now. Not for me, but for his financial survival. “Don’t walk out that door.”
I grabbed my purse and my phone. I didn’t look at him. I looked at Eleanor.
“Don’t ever contact me again. Any of you. If you try, my lawyer will have a field day with the mortgage fraud documents Julian so carelessly left in his unlocked briefcase.”
I walked out of the bridal suite, Sienna flanking me like a bodyguard. We marched down the plush, carpeted hallway of The Drake, past the bewildered wedding coordinator holding a clipboard, past the closed doors of the ballroom where two hundred people were waiting for a bride who was never going to arrive.
We got into the elevator. When the doors closed, cutting off the frantic shouts of Julian echoing down the hall, Sienna let out a breath she seemed to have been holding for ten minutes.
“Holy hell, Harper,” she breathed, her eyes wide. “That was… the most badass thing I have ever witnessed in my entire life.”
My hands were shaking now. The adrenaline was fading, leaving behind the crushing weight of the last twelve hours. I had just blown up my life. I had lost the man I thought I loved.
But as I looked in the mirrored elevator walls, I didn’t see a victim. I saw a survivor.
“I need you to do something for me, Sienna,” I said as we reached the lobby.
“Anything.”
“Go into the ballroom. Take the microphone. Tell them the wedding is canceled because the groom is a fraud. Tell them to enjoy the open bar on Julian’s rapidly maxing-out credit cards.”
Sienna grinned, a wicked, dangerous smile. “With pleasure.”
I walked out of the hotel and into the crisp Chicago morning air. The city was awake, taxis honking, people rushing with coffees in their hands. The world hadn’t ended. It had just been rearranged.
I hailed a cab, but I didn’t give the driver my Lincoln Park address.
“Gold Coast,” I told him. “State and Division.”
Ten minutes later, I was standing outside Eleanor Mercer’s luxury building. The concierge, who knew my face well, nodded and buzzed me up without a second thought. He didn’t know the wedding was off. He didn’t know the empire had fallen.
I rode the mirrored elevator up to the twenty-second floor. I walked down the silent hallway. I didn’t ring the bell this time. I pulled out the spare key Julian had given me months ago and slid it into the lock.
The apartment was empty, cold, and smelled faintly of stale tea and desperation.
I walked straight into the dining room.
There, draped over the back of the mahogany chair, was my cream cashmere cardigan.
I picked it up. I ran my fingers over the two tiny embroidered flowers. Peace and protection. My mother had saved me, even from the grave. She knew that people could lie, that smiles could deceive, but that the cold hard facts of paperwork—and the truth hidden behind closed doors—never faltered.
I put the cardigan on. It felt warm. It felt like home.
May you like
I walked out of the Mercer family’s life forever, leaving the door wide open behind me.
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