Eight Fiancés. One Queen. Zero Regrets Chapter 09

Eight Fiancés. One Queen. Zero Regrets Chapter 09

The Holloways came the next day.

Grant’s father sat in the Vance drawing room, his expression sour as he tried to play the role of a dignified elder.

“Miss Vance, this is all a bit excessive for a disagreement between young people.”

I sat on the sofa, sipping tea.

Grandpa Harold didn’t even bother looking up.

Reid sat on my left with a stack of documents.

Sullivan sat on my right, holding reports on the Holloway Group’s recent failed financing attempts.

His father sighed.

“Grant said some things he shouldn’t have. But you were clearly prepared last night. Isn’t that entrapment?”

I placed my cup down.

“Mr. Holloway, your son is an adult, not a dog that slipped off its leash.”

His father’s expression tightened.

Colt nearly laughed.

Reid coughed lightly.

I continued.

“We didn’t tell him to crash the gala.”

“We didn’t make him purchase hit pieces.”

“We didn’t forge his entry pass.”

“We didn’t tell him to call me dirty.”

“He made those choices himself.”

“Don’t blame the light for revealing the roach.”

His father was speechless.

Finally, he spoke.

“We can discuss compensation. A public apology as well. But I’d like you to drop the charges. They shouldn’t affect Grant’s future.”

I laughed.

“When he was spreading lies about me, did he think about my future?”

Silence filled the room.

Grandpa Harold finally looked up.

“Your family has maintained a clean reputation for years. Now that reputation is stained, suddenly you care?”

His father’s face grew even tighter.

Sullivan spoke gently.

“Also, Holloway Group has two bridge loans coming due. If you still want to continue doing business, I suggest showing some sincerity.”

His father turned toward me.

“Miss Vance, do you really have to destroy him completely?”

I shook my head. “Not destroy. Settle.”

I listed the terms: A public apology. Compensation. Full cooperation with the investigation. Removal of all smear accounts. A clarification of the high school rumors. Written corrections sent to every teacher and student who had been dragged into the situation.

If even one condition was missed, there would be no deal.

His father’s face turned red. “Do you hate him that much?”

I thought for a moment.

“No. Hate is an emotion. I don’t have any emotions left for him. I just keep the records.”

His father left empty-handed.

That afternoon, the Holloways released a statement.

It was vague. Carefully worded.

They said Grant had acted out because of “old emotional entanglements.”

They claimed Aurora and Grant “had been close in their youth.”

They asked the public not to “attack a young person.”

I read it and laughed.

“Still trying?”

Zane didn’t waste time commenting.

Ten minutes later, the full evidence timeline was uploaded.

From the school forum posts to the payments for the smear campaign.

From Maren’s mall video to the livestreamers’ forged passes.

From “close in their youth” to my actual message to Grant:

[Do you have my application? The deadline is tomorrow.]

The internet exploded.

[Close? She was asking for her application back, and he told her to get lost?]

[The Holloways really know how to spin things.]

[White knight collapsing into a black hole.]

[Aurora, don’t drop the case. Please.]

That night, Grant called from an unknown number.

I answered. Then I put him on speaker.

All eight of them were there.

His voice sounded exhausted. “Aurora. Are you happy now?”

I leaned back on the couch.

“Getting there.”

He faltered.

“I’ve lost everything.”

“Shows canceled. Projects dead. Friends won’t answer.”

“Why did you have to take it this far?”

I smiled. “Grant, you still think I did this to you.”

“Didn’t you?”

“No.” My voice softened. “You did this to yourself.”

“You got used to bullying people who couldn’t fight back. So you thought you would never have to pay the price.”

There was a long silence.

Then he said quietly, “You weren’t like this before.”

I had heard that sentence too many times.

“What was I like before? Wrapped around your finger? Used by you and still making excuses for you? Slandered by you and wondering if I wasn’t good enough?”

“Grant, you don’t miss the old me. You miss the version of me you could step on.”

I paused. “She’s dead.”

I hung up.

Lachlan handed me a peppermint candy. “A reward.”

I took it. “For what?”

“For not swearing this time.”

Colt said flatly, “I’ll swear for her.”

Reid looked up. “Shut up.”

Colt frowned. But he actually shut up.

I unwrapped the candy and put it in my mouth. The sweetness spread.

I felt light. Not because Grant apologized.

Because I had finally stopped needing his apology to live.