Chapter One-Hundred-Thirteen

Chapter One-Hundred-Thirteen
One Week Later
I adjusted the necklace around my neck, it felt too tight as I checked my reflection for the fifth time. This was our first public appearance as a couple since Mom's arraignment, where she'd pleaded not guilty to all charges, just as Quinn had predicted. Tonight's charity gala for children's cancer research was important to Hunter, the Sinclair family was the main sponsor, but my nerves had nothing to do with the cause and everything to do with being on display. Things had been easier at the office, but the public were different.
"You look beautiful," Hunter said, appearing behind me in the mirror. His hands settled on my shoulders, warm and reassuring. "Stop worrying." Then he kissed my bare shoulder.
I smoothed down the midnight blue gown I'd chosen carefully, elegant but understated, the empire waistline giving no hint of my still-flat stomach. At twelve weeks, I wasn't showing yet, but the dress would hide our secret either way. Only family knew about the twins.
"What if they all stare?" I turned to face him, unable to mask my anxiety. "What if all they see is the scandal? I don't want this following us for the rest of our lives."
Hunter's hands cupped my face, thumbs brushing my cheekbones. "Let them stare. All they'll see is a gorgeous woman who happens to be my wife. In a few months it will be old news." He kissed me softly. "Besides, we have reinforcements."
By reinforcements, he meant the small army waiting for us. Maya had arrived first, followed by Hunter's parents. Chris and Elizabeth Sinclair were unfazed by scandal in a way only the truly wealthy could manage. Max had shown up last, bringing Quinn as his date, though she insisted they were just "business professionals with coinciding schedules."
I'd nearly choked on my water when Hunter whispered, "business professionals who are sleeping together," in my ear.
I took a deep breath now, squaring my shoulders. "Let's go face the wolves, then."
Hunter's hand settled at the small of my back, a possessive touch that had become second nature to him. "They're the ones who should be afraid. The Sinclair family and their connection is too large and far reaching to piss off."
Everyone was waiting in the sitting room of the penthouse suite Hunter had booked for the night so we didn't have to drive back to our home tonight.
Maya immediately pulled me into a hug. "You look amazing," she said, holding me at arm's length to inspect me. "That color is perfect on you."
"Thank you for coming tonight," I said, grateful for her presence. Maya had become the sister I'd never truly had in Helena.
"Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss this for the world." She grinned wickedly. "I want to see all these society bitches try to pretend they weren't gossiping about you just last week."
"Maya," Elizabeth chided, but her eyes sparkled with amusement. Hunter's mother had made her position crystal clear from day one, she stood with us, publicly and privately.
"You look lovely, Grace. How are you feeling?" Chris asked.
The gentle question held layers, how was I handling the stress, the scandal, the pregnancy, all of it.
"Better," I answered honestly. "The morning sickness is finally easing up." The last few days I had had really bad morning sickness that had continued well into the afternoon.
"The cars are ready," Quinn announced, her evening gown hugged her curves. "Grace, remember what we discussed. No questions about the case, your mother, or the clinic. You're here for the charity, nothing else. If anyone asks you anything at all, turn your back on them and walk away or say no comment. You never know who wants information to sell to the press."
I nodded. We'd rehearsed this, Quinn and I, preparing for every possible ambush.
"And if someone pushes too hard?" Maya asked.
"Then I'll handle them," Hunter said.
The drive to the Plaza was only a short distance away. Hunter held my hand the entire way, his thumb tracing circles on my palm. "Remember," he said as we pulled up, "you have nothing to be ashamed of."
The red carpet outside the hotel was lined with photographers, flashbulbs popping the moment we stepped out. Hunter kept me close, his arm around my waist a shield against the shouted questions.
"Mrs. Sinclair! How does it feel to be carrying your sister's husband's baby?"
"Hunter! Did you marry Grace for the baby?"
"Grace! Have you spoken to your mother since her arrest?"
Quinn had prepared me for this, but the reality was still jarring. Hunter's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond, guiding me forward with steady steps. I stumbled on my dress at the final step and Hunter caught me against his chest, preventing me from falling on my face. His hand lifted my chin, turning my face toward his. "You okay?"
I nodded, my palm resting against his chest.
He bent down and brushed a swift kiss across my lips, both of us missing the camera flash behind us. He straightened up and spotted our friends and family gathered by the entrance waiting for us.
Inside, the ballroom glittered with crystal and candlelight, New York's elite mingling over champagne I couldn't drink. I spotted familiar faces, board members, business associates, society fixtures, a celebrity or two, all watching our entrance with barely concealed curiosity.
"Remember I love you and they don't matter," Hunter murmured against my ear. "We're not here for them. We are here for a cause and everyone else can think what they like."
He was right, of course. This wasn't about the scandal or the gossip. It was about the children's cancer wing that Sinclair's had helped fund, about the research that might save lives.
"Hunter! Grace!" A voice called from across the room. I turned to see Hunter's father waving us over to where he stood with Max and Quinn.
Max touched my elbow. "How are you holding up, princess?"
Hunter frowned at the nickname, but I managed a small smile. "I'm fine. Or I will be, once people stop looking at me like I'm an exhibit at the zoo."
"Give 'em something to really stare at," Max suggested with a wink. "Hunter could always punch someone for you."
Despite myself, I laughed. "Don't tempt him."
"I wouldn't need much convincing," Hunter muttered, his hand tightening on my waist.
The evening progressed better than expected. I stayed close to our group, letting Hunter field most conversations. Whenever someone strayed too close to dangerous territory, one of our "reinforcements" would smoothly intervene.
"You're doing great," Maya whispered during dinner, squeezing my hand under the table. "And all these bitchy society wives are dying of envy. You should see how they look at Hunter when he only has eyes for you. Helena never had that hold on him. He hasn't left your side."
I glanced at my husband, handsome in his tuxedo as he spoke with a hospital board member. "I'm so lucky it all worked out. I hate that my sister had to die but I couldn't be happier with how my life turned out. Does that make me a bad person?" I said softly.
"God, no. Grace you are one of the nicest people I know. That's how you got yourself in this mess to start with."
After dinner came speeches, then dancing. Hunter led me to the floor without asking, his hand warm against my back as he pulled me close.
"Still holding up?" he asked, swaying me gently to the music.
"Better than I expected." I rested my cheek against his chest, letting the steady beat of his heart calm me. "Thank you for bringing the cavalry. It was so good having everyone around us."
He chuckled, the sound rumbling under my ear. "They insisted. I think my mother was ready to personally escort anyone who upset you out of the building."
"She's been amazing. They all have." I pulled back enough to look up at him. "I never had this kind of support before. People who would stand up for me just because..."
"Because they love you," he finished. "Get used to it, Grace. You're a Sinclair now."
The music changed, and Hunter's father appeared at our side. "May I cut in?" he asked with a warm smile.
Hunter released me with a nod, stepping back as Chris took his place. He was a good dancer, leading with the confidence of decades of practice.
"You've handled yourself beautifully tonight," he said as we moved across the floor. "Not that I expected anything less. Your name is very fitting."
"I've had good teachers," I replied. "And excellent backup."
Chris smiled, the expression so like his son's it made my heart ache. "Hunter's lucky to have you. We all are."
"I'm the lucky one," I countered. "Your family has been so accepting, even with everything that happened..."
"Grace," he interrupted gently, "you were always meant to be part of this family. Sometimes the path just takes unexpected turns. Never doubt Hunter loves you. I think had you not worked for him he would have been with you from the start and not Helena. The way he looks at you, he never looked at Helena that way."
When the song ended, Chris escorted me back to where Hunter waited with his mother. Elizabeth immediately pulled me into a conversation about nursery colors, acting as though planning for a baby was the most natural thing in the world and not the result of a scandal that had rocked New York society.
The evening was winding down when I excused myself to find the ladies' room. Quinn joined me.
"You're handling this like a pro," she said, checking her lipstick in the mirror. "The press will have nothing interesting to report except how beautiful you looked and how devoted Hunter is."
I smiled, grateful for her practicality. "That's the goal, right? Not like it's an act."
"Absolutely." She turned to me. "Are you really okay, though? This can't be easy."
I considered the question, trying to find the truth beneath the practiced composure. "I'm... getting there. It helps knowing I didn't do anything wrong."
Quinn squeezed my arm. "Hold onto that. No matter what happens with your mother's case, remember you're the one who told the truth."
I looked at my friend. "I want to talk about something else the next time we catch up. Like what is going on with you and Max? The man you hated."
"Do we have to?" Quinn's face went a shade of pink.
"Yes. You know all about my love life, I think it's only fair." Walking out.
When we returned to the ballroom, I spotted Hunter near the wall on the other side of the room, deep in conversation with Max and Maya. As I made my way toward them, I saw him look our way then past us, his posture stiffened, his expression darkening.
I was only a few steps away when someone barreled past me, knocking me off balance. Quinn caught my arm. A woman with sleek blonde hair and a skintight red dress flung herself at Hunter, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"Hunter!" she exclaimed, loud enough for half the room to hear. "It's been absolutely ages!"
I froze, my stomach dropping as recognition hit me. Emma Mackay—Hunter's ex, the supermodel he'd been with before Helena. She hadn't been invited; I had been involved with the guest list, so she must be someone's plus one.