Chapter 5 - The Red CarpetThe grand ballroom of the Grandview Hotel glittered under hundreds of crystal chandeliers. Photographers lined the red carpet, their camera shutters clicking in a continuous, rhythmic roar.
When the town car pulled up to the curb, the driver stepped out and opened the door. I took a deep breath, smoothing down the replacement gown Marisol had helped me find—a deep, elegant navy silk dress that draped gracefully over my nineteen-week bump, entirely different from the ruined emerald gown, but far more powerful.
As I stepped onto the red carpet, the flashbulbs exploded like lightning.
Whispers rippled through the crowd of reporters and local dignitaries. Rumors had already swirled that Grant Vance’s wife was too unwell to attend, or that family obligations had kept her home. Instead, here I was, walking with my head high, a radiant flush on my cheeks, and a look of absolute determination in my eyes.
“Mrs. Vance! Over here!” a reporter from the regional daily called out. “Is it true your husband couldn't make it tonight?”
I paused, looking directly into the camera lens. “My husband is currently managing his own domestic affairs,” I said clearly, my voice steady and ringing across the foyer. “Tonight belongs to the families and mothers who refuse to be silenced.”
From the back of the lobby, a familiar, furious voice cut through the murmur.
“Elena!”
I turned to see Grant pushing past the security barriers, his suit jacket unbuttoned and his face dark with suppressed rage. Beverly stood right behind him like an unyielding shadow.
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“Get away from her,” Grant snarled, lunging forward. “She’s delusional. She’s pregnant and unstable—she doesn’t know what she’s saying!”
Two burly hotel security guards stepped neatly into his path, blocking him instantly.
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