Eight Fiancés. One Queen. Zero Regrets Chapter 05

Eight Fiancés. One Queen. Zero Regrets Chapter 05

The night of the gala, Vance Estate was glowing with lights.

The invitation made it clear—this was the Vance Heiress Introduction Gala.

Not a wedding. Not an engagement. Nothing like the scandal Grant had implied.

I walked in on Grandpa Harold’s arm.

He was in excellent form tonight. His mahogany walking stick tapped against the floor like a metronome.

The room was filled with Lake George’s elite.

Media stations lined the back, with a three-minute livestream delay.

Grant didn’t know that.

Grandpa Harold personally took the stage.

“This is my granddaughter, Aurora Vance. The sole heir to the Vance name. She struggled outside these walls. From tonight onward, the Vance family will reclaim everything that belongs to her.”

Applause filled the room.

I stood beside him, scanning the crowd.

The eight fiancé candidates sat on both sides.

No one stole my spotlight.

They simply existed quietly, like eight signed cards already placed on the table.

Halfway through the program, the doors suddenly swung open.

Grant. A white suit. Black shoes.

Two livestreamers behind him.

And Maren—with heavy makeup and hungry eyes.

He walked in with a smile.

“Aurora. Are you done pretending?”

The room fell silent.

Cameras turned toward him.

He had come here to pass judgment.

“Everyone at school knew how desperately you chased me. Now you’re clinging to eight men. Doesn’t that disgust you?”

The comments exploded:

[Damn, the ex is here!]

[So the eight men are real?]

[Her expression hasn’t changed at all.]

[This guy is Grant Holloway?]

I held my champagne glass, completely unmoved.

Grant thought I was afraid.

He stepped forward.

“You’ve all been fooled. I know who she really is. She brought me notes, food, and showed up at my door. Then she took six months off—who knows what she did during that time? Now she’s suddenly a Vance heiress with eight fake fiances.”

He looked at the men behind me with a mocking smile.

“What are you all? Paid actors? Do you really think you belong at a Vance gala?”

Colt’s eyes turned cold.

Reid raised a hand, stopping him.

I set down my glass and finally spoke.

“Grant. You said I was with you. What year? What date? Where? Do you have messages? Photos? Hotel records? A single witness willing to testify under oath?”

His expression stiffened.

I continued. “I liked you once. That’s not embarrassing. What’s embarrassing is that I liked you.”

Someone in the crowd laughed.

Grant’s composure cracked.

“Of course you sound innocent now—you have eight men around you. Who knows what—”

“Enough.”

Tristan stood.

He wasn’t wearing a white coat, but he carried the authority of a chief surgeon.

The main screen lit up.

Not the complete records.

Not private information.

Just one page—a medical verification summary authorized by me for public release.

It displayed the hospital’s digital stamp, notary number, and timestamp.

All sensitive information had been blacked out.

Only one line remained:

[The medical information regarding “abortion during leave” and “prolonged promiscuity” spread by Grant Holloway and related accounts does not correspond to any existing medical records. The associated screenshots are forged.]

Tristan’s voice was cold. “Medical records are not weapons to use against women. But someone forged them to slander another person.”

“So we are releasing this verification page. Mr. Holloway, the fake screenshots you purchased do not exist in the hospital system.”

Grant’s expression finally changed.

Maren panicked and looked at him.

I smiled. “What? Your script didn’t include this part?”