Chapter 85
Grace's POV
Alex's foot came down on the screen with a decisive crack. "Apologies," he said, his voice carrying that dangerous edge I'd learned to recognize. "Accidents happen. Someone will replace your device shortly."
The businessman tried to pull away, and I heard the distinct sound of joints popping as Alex's grip tightened.
The man dropped to one knee, clutching his wrist. "You can't just—"
"I can do whatever I want when someone spreads lies about my wife," Alex said quietly.
Elizabeth hurried over with security guards, her face a mask of concern. "Mr. Morgan, please. These are all respected guests. Surely we can handle this more... diplomatically?"
The businessman struggled to his feet, cradling his injured wrist. Around us, the crowd buzzed with nervous energy. Some guests looked scandalized by Alex's violence. Others seemed impressed by his protective instincts.
Violet Cooper had gone completely still, her champagne glass forgotten in her hand.
Andrew Wilson watched from his table with barely concealed satisfaction, his eyes tracking the Morgan family's reactions.
I stepped to the edge of the stage, my heart hammering. "Alex."
He turned toward me, and for a moment, his expression softened. But there was something cold and distant in his eyes that made my chest tighten.
He's going to end this, I thought desperately. He's going to realize I've been hiding things from him.
"I'm sorry," I said quietly, moving closer to him. "I should have told you about my past. It wasn't a real marriage, but—"
Alex reached out and pulled me against him, his arms wrapping around me with fierce possessiveness. His laugh was low and warm against my ear.
"What are you apologizing for, you silly woman?" he murmured. "You think I don't know everything about you?"
I crashed into his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath my palms. The relief was so intense it made me dizzy.
Alex loosened his hold just enough to turn us both toward the crowd, his arm still firmly around my waist. He took the microphone from Elizabeth with his free hand.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, his voice carrying easily across the silent ballroom, "I apologize for the disruption. My wife is far too kind and forgiving for her own good."
His gaze swept across the room, lingering on Elizabeth with unmistakable menace. "But I have absolutely no tolerance for anyone who would stand in front of me and spread malicious lies about the woman I love."
Elizabeth's face had gone chalk white, her smile frozen in place.
"Mrs. Wilson," Alex continued, his tone deceptively polite, "thank you for your concern. But I can assure everyone here that I know everything about my wife's past."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the crowd.
"Photographs can be manipulated. Rumors are worthless. She has never been married to anyone else, because she is my legal wife. We were married yesterday at the county courthouse."
The ballroom erupted. Gasps echoed from every corner. Guests turned to each other in shock, their voices rising in a cacophony of surprise and speculation.
I felt Alex's fingers tighten around mine, our fingers interlocking. My heart was racing so fast I could barely think, but when I looked up at him, I saw something fierce and protective in his expression that made my chest warm.
He chose me, I realized. Even knowing everything, he still chose me.
The crowd was still buzzing with excitement and confusion, but Alex's declaration had shifted the entire narrative. We weren't just engaged anymore—we were already married. Already committed. Already unbreakable.
Elizabeth stood frozen beside us, her carefully orchestrated trap turned into our triumph.
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Andrew's POV
The silence that followed Alex's declaration felt electric, charged with the kind of tension that preceded either triumph or disaster. I leaned back in my chair, champagne glass poised at my lips, watching the aftermath unfold with the detached fascination of a chess master observing his opponent's unexpected move.
Violet's champagne glass slipped from her trembling fingers.
The crystal shattered against the marble floor with a sound that cut through the hushed conversations like a gunshot. She lurched to her feet so violently that her chair toppled backward, the crash echoing through the ballroom.
Well, well, I thought, deliberately setting down my own glass with care. The Cooper princess isn't as composed as she pretends to be.
Her father's face flushed crimson as he grabbed his daughter's arm, yanking her back into her seat with enough force to make her stumble. "Violet! Mind your behavior!"
Interesting. I filed away this little revelation for future use. The Cooper family's golden child had just exposed a very exploitable weakness. Her feelings for Alex ran deeper than anyone had imagined.
This kind of information could prove... valuable.
But Mother wasn't finished with her performance. I watched her recover from her initial shock with the practiced grace of a seasoned manipulator, rising from her seat with that perfectly calibrated smile that had fooled countless weaker minds for decades.
"Mr. Morgan," she said, her voice dripping with honeyed concern, "while your protection is certainly touching, I believe our guests deserve some clarification about this... situation."
Here we go. I immediately recognized Elizabeth's strategy—isolate the target, question their legitimacy, force them into a defensive position. It was a move I'd seen her use countless times in board meetings.
She let her gaze sweep across the room like a prosecutor addressing a jury. "Grace is a member of the Wilson family, after all. Such a momentous decision—marriage—without consulting the family elders? Without proper ceremony or announcement?"
Clever. She was positioning Grace and Alex as impulsive children who'd acted without proper authority. But I could see the flaw in her approach—she was assuming the Morgan family would be as blindsided as we were.
"More importantly," Elizabeth continued, gaining momentum, "I'm curious whether the distinguished Morgan family elders were informed of this... sudden development? Surely such an alliance would require discussion between our families?"
I watched Leon Morgan's face carefully. His expression remained unreadable. The silence stretched taut, and I could practically taste Elizabeth's confidence.
She thinks she's won, I realized. She thinks she's about to expose them as reckless and unauthorized.
But then Eleanor rose from her seat.
The old woman's cane tapped against the marble floor with the authority of a judge's gavel, and the entire ballroom fell silent. Even Elizabeth's smile faltered slightly.
"Enough."
That single word carried more weight than Elizabeth's entire speech. I felt a chill run down my spine as Eleanor's steely gaze fixed on my mother.
"Mrs. Wilson," Eleanor continued, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade, "Alex is the child I helped raise. He has never made a decision without careful consideration. If he chose Grace, then she is absolutely worthy of that choice."
The Morgan family had known about this marriage beforehand. They weren't blindsided—they were backing Grace completely.
Fuck. The plan was crumbling before our eyes. The Morgan family wasn't just tolerating Grace—they were embracing her as one of their own.