Chapter 6 - Stripped of the Crown
Victoria stared at the velvet box lying in the splinters on the floor.
Her mind fractured. The life she had built—the social standing, the wealth, the grand future as Mrs. Nathaniel Whitfield—was shattering into dust right before her eyes.
“Nathaniel, please!” Victoria cried out, throwing herself forward, her hands reaching for his arm. “I did it for us! My father was desperate! We were going to lose everything! I loved you!”
“Do not touch me,” Nathaniel said, stepping back with absolute revulsion.
Mateo, Nathaniel’s head of security, appeared out of the crowd along with three armed guards in dark suits. Mateo stepped firmly between Victoria and Nathaniel, holding out a hand to stop her forward motion.
“Miss Hale,” Mateo said sternly. “You need to come with us.”
“Get your hands off me!” Victoria screamed, flailing her arms, her manicured nails catching the air. “Do you know who I am?! I am a Hale! My grandfather built this city!”
“Your grandfather built a legacy,” Nathaniel said, looking down at her with pure disdain. “You turned it into a crime scene.”
Victoria looked around the room, desperate for help. She looked at her father, but Arthur Hale was slumped in a chair, holding his head in his hands, completely broken. She looked at her socialite friends, but they turned their backs on her, whispering behind their silk fans, recording her disgrace on their smartphones.
The elite crowd that had once bowed to her was now laughing at her downfall.
With trembling, violent motions, Victoria reached down and picked up the velvet box. She opened it with a desperate snatch, tearing the four-carat diamond engagement ring from her finger and throwing it with all her strength at Nathaniel’s chest.
The diamond bounced off his tuxedo jacket and landed on the marble floor with a sharp clink.
“I hope you rot in this empty house!” Victoria shrieked, her face contorted in a mask of ugly, hysterical rage. “I hope you spend the rest of your life alone with your grief and your pathetic staff! You deserve to be miserable!”
“I was miserable,” Nathaniel said softly, his dark eyes turning toward Elena and Lily. “Until tonight.”
Mateo and the security guards took Victoria firmly by her elbows, dragging her toward the grand double doors of the ballroom. Her high heels scraped uselessly against the stone as she screamed curses, her emerald gown torn at the hem, her perfect hair falling apart in wild strands.
The heavy oak doors slammed shut behind her, cutting off her shrieking voice like a blade.
A suffocating silence settled over the three hundred remaining guests.
Nathaniel didn't look at the crowd. He turned his back on the millionaires, the politicians, and the socialites. He walked over to the floor, bent down, and picked up the engagement ring.
Without a second thought, he tossed the million-dollar diamond into a nearby crystal ice bucket, right next to the torn pages of Lily’s storybook.
Then he reached down, took Elena’s trembling hand, and pulled her gently up from the floor.
“Mr. Whitfield...” Elena stammered, her voice shaking violently, tears blurring her vision. “I’m so sorry... I caused a scene... I’ll gather our things and leave—”
“You are not going anywhere, Elena,” Nathaniel said firmly.
He looked at the crowd of guests, his voice booming across the grand space.
“The party is over,” Nathaniel announced to the room. “Please leave.”
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No one argued. No one lingered. The three hundred guests quickly gathered their coats and hurried out the side exits, desperate to escape the wrath of a billionaire who had just demolished one of Connecticut’s oldest families in twenty minutes.
Within ten minutes, the grand ballroom was empty, leaving only the soft glow of the chandeliers, the shattered wooden toys on the floor, and three people standing in the center of the quiet space.
