Eight Fiancés. One Queen. Zero Regrets Chapter 08

Eight Fiancés. One Queen. Zero Regrets Chapter 08

Grant refused.

His spine was weak, but his mouth was stubborn.

“Why should I apologize? You have everything now. Vance heiress. Eight fiances. This entire room is standing behind you. What more do you want from me?”

I looked at him and laughed.

“You think that because I’m doing well now, I don’t get to hold you accountable for what you did?”

He didn’t answer.

So I answered for him.

“You think I should be generous. Let everything go. Thank fate for making it up to me—and then stop bothering you.”

Grant’s expression twisted.

I went cold.

“Why?”

“When you spread lies about me, I didn’t have the Vances. No lawyers. No eight fiances. No one standing in front of me.”

“I was pointed at by the entire school. Called into meetings by teachers. Cursed out by relatives.”

“Where were you?”

“You watched.”

“You knew the truth.”

“And you found it convenient.”

I stepped closer.

“So don’t talk to me about grace.”

“I’m not here to forgive you.”

“I’m not here to play the bigger person.”

“I’m here to settle accounts.”

The comments exploded:

[She’s speaking for every woman who’s been hurt.]

[Why should victims have to move on just because they’re successful now?]

[Don’t forgive him. Make him pay.]

[Grant Holloway is absolute trash.]

Reid muttered, “Watch your tone.”

I glanced at him. “I didn’t swear.”

Colt smiled coldly. “I wanted to.”

Reid looked at him. “You too. Shut up.”

Dashiell was shaking with suppressed laughter.

That brief exchange loosened the tension in the room.

But Grant was completely broken.

He looked at the eight men behind me.

Only now did he realize they weren’t hired eye candy.

Reid Sterling. Partner at a top law firm.

Colt Maddox. Heir to a private security empire.

Tristan Ellison. Successor to a medical group.

Ford Brennan. An expert in evidence preservation and notarization.

Zane Blackwood. CEO of an information security company.

Dashiell Cole. Media heir.

Sullivan Cross. Manager of Vance family funds and assets.

Lachlan Wells. The Wells heir—known for smiling while he quietly destroyed his enemies.

Grant’s voice trembled. “Why are you all helping her?”

Sullivan smiled calmly. “We’re not helping her.”

“The Vance family has formal candidate contracts. Aurora has the final say. Until she makes her decision, we have a duty to protect her.”

He paused. Then added, “To be clear—she isn’t clinging to us.”

“We’re waiting in line for her to choose.”

The room erupted.

Grant couldn’t stand.

He had thought I hired eight men for appearances.

But every single one of them was real.

And each one was more powerful than the last.

Lachlan walked to my side and gently smoothed the hem of my dress where the chaos had wrinkled it.

Quietly, he said, “Don’t let his shoes dirty yours.”

I looked down.

Grant had stepped on my hem when he lunged at me.

Dashiell said, “That dress is expensive.”

Colt added, “Make him pay.”

Reid replied, “Already included in the damages list.”

I couldn’t help smiling.

As Grant was escorted away, he looked back.

Hatred.

Resentment.

And a flicker of late panic.

I didn’t flinch.

“Grant. You always said I chased you so loudly that everyone knew.”

“Well, today, you crashed so loudly that everyone saw.”

His face twisted.

The ballroom doors closed.

Dashiell grabbed the microphone and grinned obnoxiously.

“Ladies and gentlemen, apologies for the interruption.”

“That was our special segment: Used-Up White Knight Disposal.”

Grandpa Harold glared at him.

“Enough.”

Dashiell immediately straightened.

“Right. Back to the serious program.”

Laughter rippled through the room.

I stepped back onto the stage.

This time, I looked directly into the cameras.

“My name is Aurora Vance.”

“I’ve been poor.”

“I’ve been foolish.”

“I’ve loved the wrong person.”

“None of that gives anyone permission to lie about me.”

“Being loved, being protected, and being claimed by family are not crimes.”

“Anyone who wants to write stories about me from now on—make sure you’ve budgeted for legal fees.”

Reid added calmly from behind me, “Her lawyer is expensive.”

I smiled.

“Yes. And there are a lot of us.”