Chapter 3 - The Metropolitan Bomb
The sun was blinding as Ethan’s sleek black Maybach pulled up to the valet stand of the Metropolitan Club. Paparazzi flashes immediately went off like lightning strikes against the tinted windows.
"Remember," Ethan reminded me quietly as the chauffeur stepped out to open our door. "You owe them no explanations. You are higher than them now."
He slipped his hand into mine. His fingers were steady, warm, and strong. I squeezed back, taking a deep breath of high-end perfume and cold nerve.
The doors opened. Flashes exploded.
"Mr. Cole! Is it true the Cole-Vance deal is finalizing today?!" a reporter shouted.
"Mr. Cole, who is the woman with you?!"
Ethan ignored them completely, shielding me with his tall frame as he led me up the marble steps of the private club. The heavy oak doors closed behind us, shutting out the noise of the street, replacing it with the muted, aristocratic hum of classical violin music and clinking champagne flutes.
The host bowed deeply. "Ah, Mr. Cole. Mr. Vance’s private dining room is ready on the second-floor terrace. They are waiting for you."
"Thank you, Charles," Ethan said smoothly.
We walked up the grand staircase. My red-bottom heels clicked against the polished mahogany with a sharp, hypnotic rhythm. My heart was pounding, a wild drum in my chest, but my face remained an impassive mask of granite.
We turned the corner into the glass-walled conservatory overlooking the private gardens.
There they were.
My father, Richard, was laughing heartily, holding a glass of scotch, talking to Arthur Vance. My mother, Eleanor, was obsessively adjusting the lace collar of Lauren’s dress. Lauren sat at the center of the table like a queen, sipping mimosa, glowing in a light pink designer dress, looking radiant and utterly unbothered. Preston sat beside her, looking mildly bored, checking his phone.
"...and we are just so blessed that the truth came out before the wedding," my mother’s fake, sickly-sweet voice carried across the room. "Family loyalty is everything to us, Arthur. When a bad apple shows its true colors, you have to cut it off the tree."
"An unfortunate business," Arthur Vance grunted, sipping his espresso. "Unfortunate. But Preston needs a stable, pure woman by his side for the merger. Good riddance to the younger one."
Lauren giggled, leaning her head on Preston’s shoulder. "I just hope Mia finds help, Arthur. I forgive her, truly. I just want her to get better."
"How generous of you, sister," I spoke up, my voice cutting through the soft violin music like a diamond blade.
The entire table went dead silent.
My mother dropped her fork; it clattered loudly against her china plate. My father choked on his scotch. Preston blinked, staring at me in total bewilderment.
And Lauren... Lauren’s smile froze. Her face drained of all color within two seconds.
I stepped into the conservatory, arm-in-arm with Ethan Cole.
"Mia?!" my father gasped, jumping to his feet, his face turning an unhealthy shade of purple. "How dare you show your face here?! Who let you in?! Security—"
"Quiet, Richard," Ethan’s voice boomed softly, loaded with so much quiet authority that my father stopped dead in his tracks, his mouth agape.
Arthur Vance immediately stood up, his eyes wide with shock, but a wide smile instantly breaking out on his face. "Ethan! My boy! You made it!" Arthur stepped forward, offering his hand, completely ignoring my stunned family. "We were worried you’d be delayed."
"I would never miss a luncheon with you, Arthur," Ethan said smoothly, shaking the old titan's hand. "Forgive us for being late. My fiancée and I were delayed by our legal team."
Fiancée.
The word dropped into the conservatory like a nuclear warhead.
My mother stumbled backward against her chair. Lauren’s jaw dropped so low she looked absurd.
"Fiancée?" Arthur asked, blinking in confusion, looking at me. "Ethan, I thought... I heard rumors about your London arrangement..."
"Arrangements change when you find the true love of your life, Arthur," Ethan said, turning to me with a look of such terrifyingly convincing tenderness that it almost made my own heart skip a beat. He brought my hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles right beside the massive Cartier emerald-cut diamond ring. "Allow me to introduce my future wife... Mia Reynolds."
"Reynolds?" Preston blurted out, staring at me as if I had just transformed into an alien species. "Mia... you’re with Ethan Cole?!"
"It's Mrs. Cole to you, Preston," I said, eyeing him with cold disgust. "And yes. Ethan found me last night... right after my family decided to dump my luggage onto I-95."
Arthur Vance’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. He slowly turned his head to glare at my father and mother. "You left your daughter on the highway?"
My mother began to stammer hysterically, her hands waving in the air. "Arthur, no! You don't understand! She’s crazy! She tried to ruin Lauren’s engagement! She’s a homewrecker! She tried to seduce Preston!"
"Did she?" Ethan said coolly, pulling a tablet out of his inner coat pocket and placing it on the table. "Because my private security team spent the last twelve hours analyzing the digital footprints of those infamous screenshots Mrs. Reynolds used to frame Mia last night."
Lauren gasped, taking a sharp step back. "That's a lie! I have the phone!"
"You have a burner phone registered to a proxy IP address in D.C.," Ethan countered, tapping the tablet screen. A document popped up, displaying a forensic digital trail with Lauren’s personal credit card tied to the purchase of the fake text-generating software. "A simple subpoena, which my legal team filed two hours ago, forced the provider to release the logs. The messages sent to Preston were generated from Lauren’s own iPad at 4:00 PM yesterday while Mia was at her design firm."
Preston snatched the tablet. His eyes scanned the legal forensic report. His face went from pale white to deep crimson.
"Lauren..." Preston turned to her, his voice shaking with sudden, blinding rage. "You made these up? You framed your own sister?"
"No! Preston, baby, listen to me!" Lauren shrieked, reaching for him, but Preston shoved her hand away.
My father looked like he was suffering a heart attack. "Ethan... Mr. Cole... there must be a mistake—"
"There are no mistakes in my world, Richard," Ethan said coldly, wrapping a protective arm around my waist, pulling me close against his solid frame. "Your family committed a grave error last night. You discarded a diamond, and you kept a snake. And now, you will deal with the consequences."
Ethan turned to Arthur Vance. "Arthur, I am still prepared to move forward with the acquisition of Vance Global. But my condition has changed. I will not sign any paperwork that involves the Reynolds family sitting on your advisory board."
Arthur didn't hesitate for a single second. He looked at my parents as if they were filthy street rats.
"Security," Arthur called out calmly. "Escort Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds and their daughter off the premises. Their club memberships are revoked effective immediately."
My mother burst into tears. My father began begging Arthur for mercy as two burly security guards stepped into the room. Lauren stood frozen, staring at me with pure, unadulterated hatred.
I stepped forward, leaning in close to Lauren so only she could hear me.
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"Good luck proving your innocence, Lauren," I whispered, throwing her own words back in her face with a sweet, lethal smile.
As security dragged them out of the conservatory screaming, I took a seat at the head table beside Ethan, picked up a crystal glass of champagne, and took a smooth, victorious sip.
