Chapter 5 - Owning the Room
Thirty minutes later, the flashing lights of police cruisers illuminated the windows of the Plaza Hotel.
I stood on the balcony of the executive suite, watching them arrive.
Federal agents had already entered the building.
Nathaniel was escorted out the side entrance in handcuffs, his head bowed, desperately trying to hide his face from the paparazzi who had gathered outside.
A few moments later, Sienna was led out by a female officer.
She was not wearing a couture gown.
She had been forced to surrender it to the event staff.
Instead, she was shivering in a white terrycloth hotel bathrobe, her perfect blonde hair ruined by the rain.
She had wanted to inherit my life.
Now, she was inheriting my husband’s felony charges.
The door to the balcony opened.
Adrian stepped out, carrying two glasses of champagne.
He handed one to me.
“The dress is safely packed away,” he said. “And the two million dollar donation cleared.”
I took a sip of the champagne.
“You didn’t have to do that, Adrian.”
“I wanted to.”
He looked at me, his dark eyes tracing the silhouette of the red satin gown.
“I waited seven years for you to realize he wasn't worthy of you.”
I looked out at the glittering skyline of New York City.
For years, I had shrunk myself to fit inside Nathaniel’s shadow. I had let him take the credit. I had let him take the applause.
I had almost let him take my dignity.
“My grandmother was right,” I said softly.
“About what?”
“Never give them the ending they expect.”
I turned to Adrian and offered a genuine smile.
The foundation was mine. The legacy was mine. The future was mine.
“Shall we go back downstairs, Mr. Cross?” I asked. “I believe I have a gala to host.”
Adrian offered me his arm.
May you like
“Lead the way, Ms. Whitaker.”
I took his arm, and together, we walked back into the ballroom to own the room.
