Chapter 2
The bridal limo slowed to a stop at the red-carpet entrance of the Four Seasons Hotel Denver.
The chauffeur opened the door for me, and a wall of press cameras and telephoto lenses immediately swung in my direction.
Grant had certainly given me a wedding that had all of Denver watching.
There was just one problem: the groom was missing.
“Ms. Bennett, why didn’t the groom arrive with you?”
“Ms. Bennett! We heard the woman Mr. Prescott never got over is back in the country. Is he planning to call off the wedding?”
Countless microphones were thrust toward my face from every direction.
My phone began to vibrate.
Ethan’s name flashed across the screen.
“Claire, you’re at the hotel, right?”
“The limo broke down on the freeway. Grant and I are stuck out here.”
The background on his end was noisy. I could faintly hear someone giving a wedding toast.
Any other time in the past eight years, I would have immediately asked if either of them was hurt.
I would have told them I understood and gently reminded them that their safety came first.
But not this time.
“Put Grant on.”
Ethan was clearly caught off guard. The other end of the line went silent.
A few seconds later, someone else took the phone.
“Claire, I’m not going to make it there on time.”
“You’ll have to handle the guests yourself for now.”
“I promise I’ll come find you as soon as I finish dealing with things here.”
Grant sounded as confident as ever.
He believed that no matter what happened, all he had to do was sweet-talk me, and I would stay exactly where he had left me.
But not this time.
“Grant Prescott.”
I stopped him by saying his full name. There was no anger in my voice and no hint of tears as I spoke each word clearly.
“The ceremony starts in thirty minutes.”
“If you’re not here, I’m changing grooms.”
“Changing grooms?”
“Claire, stop being ridiculous.”
Grant chuckled, not taking my ultimatum seriously.
“You’ve been with me for eight years. Everyone in Denver knows you’re mine.”
“Who else would dare marry you today?”
Before I could answer, a soft, breathy female voice drifted through the phone.
Grant quickly added, “Be good, Claire. Don’t start acting up. I’ll get there as soon as I can.”
Then he hung up on me.
My face, framed by flawless bridal makeup, stared back at me from the screen.
The spare phone Tessa had left in my purse vibrated several times.
A new message appeared in the WhatsApp group titled [Serena’s Surprise].
Grant: [Claire seems a little upset. Can someone calm her down?]
I stared at the message.
Less than two seconds later, Tessa replied.
Tessa: [Don’t worry, Grant. I’ll handle it.]
Tessa: [You’re about to exchange rings. Don’t keep Serena waiting!]
Grant: [Thanks.]
The WhatsApp group had four members: Grant, Ethan, Tessa’s main number, and her burner number.
I turned off the screen and raised my left hand, staring at my bare ring finger.
Grant had told me he had commissioned an independent designer in Paris to create my wedding ring.
He had wanted to save it until the final moment of the ceremony, when he would personally slide it onto my finger.
Now, it seemed that ring was on Serena’s hand.
Not long afterward, the dressing-room door flew open.
Tessa rushed inside, breathless, carrying the custom bridesmaid dress I had personally commissioned for her.
“Claire! Thank God you already have your makeup done!”
“The limo broke down on the freeway, and then there was a pileup behind it. Traffic is completely gridlocked.”
“Grant was so frantic he nearly punched the steering wheel. He’s sorting everything out at the scene and told me to come stay with you.”
As she spoke, Tessa motioned for the makeup artist in the corner to touch up my makeup.