CHAP 3 — The Toast That Never Happened
Brielle recovered fast.
Cruel people often do when witnesses arrive.
She lifted her chin and snapped at the woman beside her.
“Get security.”
Grant’s head turned.
“No.”
Brielle stared at him.
“Grant, there are four strange children hiding in your bathroom during our engagement party.”
“They are children,” he said. “Not an intrusion.”
“They could be part of a scam.”
Noah moved closer to his brothers.
Grant saw it.
That small protective movement did something violent inside him.
He stepped between Brielle and the boys.
“Who told you they were here?”
Brielle blinked.
“What?”
“You didn’t ask who they were. You didn’t ask if they were hurt. You asked what was going on in here like you already knew exactly what you were seeing.”
Her face went cold.
“You are in shock.”
“No,” Grant said. “I’m becoming less stupid by the second.”
Behind Brielle, the noise from the foyer softened. Guests had begun drifting toward the bathroom hall, drawn by raised voices and the absence of the promised toast.
James Cartwright, Brielle’s father, appeared near the doorway.
“What is this?”
Grant did not take his eyes off Brielle.
“That’s what I’m asking.”
The smallest boy, Finn, tugged Grant’s sleeve.
“The man outside said we had to go with the pretty lady after the party.”
Grant crouched again.
“What man?”
Finn swallowed.
“He had a black car. He said Mom was sick and Brielle would fix everything.”
Brielle’s breath caught.
Grant heard it.
So did James Cartwright.
Grant stood.
“Where is Olivia?”
Brielle laughed once, sharp and ugly.
“You cannot seriously believe this.”
Grant held up the letter.
“This is her handwriting.”
“People forge things.”
“Then you won’t mind if I call the police.”
Brielle’s eyes flashed.
“Do that and you will turn this family into a circus.”
The old Grant might have hesitated.
The Grant who had spent years managing reputation, inheritance, board confidence, and family optics.
But four boys were standing barefoot on his marble floor in pajamas and bowties, watching him decide whether they mattered.
He pulled out his phone.
Brielle lunged for it.
Grant caught her wrist.
The foyer gasped.
His voice dropped.
“Do not touch me.”
Brielle’s confidence cracked.
For the first time, Grant saw what had been underneath the glitter.
Panic.
Not embarrassment.
Panic.
He called his head of security.
“Lock down every exit. Nobody leaves with these children. Find the black car outside. And call police.”
Brielle whispered, “Grant.”
May you like
He looked at her ring.
Then at the boys.
“The toast is canceled.”
