Chapter 6 - THE EXODUS
Arthur and three other security guards stepped forward,
their presence a silent command.
They stood behind Nathan,
Vivian,
and Sloane,
waiting for the inevitable.
“This way,
please,”
Arthur said,
gesturing toward the grand mahogany doors.
Vivian was sobbing now,
her face a mess of expensive mascara and ruined pride.
She didn't look like the queen of Charleston anymore.
She looked like an old woman who had lost her way.
Sloane was silent,
her face frozen in a mask of pure,
unadulterated hatred.
She walked out first,
her heels clicking sharply on the marble,
a sound that echoed like a firing squad.
Vivian followed,
her shoulders hunched,
leaning on the arm of a guard for support.
But Nathan stayed.
He stood in front of me,
his eyes searching mine for a flicker of the woman he used to control.
“Madison,
please,”
he whispered.
“We can talk about this.”
“I was wrong.”
“I’ll make it up to you.”
“I’ll put your name on Table One.”
“I’ll tell everyone you’re the owner.”
I looked at him,
and I felt nothing but a profound sense of exhaustion.
The man I had fallen for at the boutique hotel was a ghost.
The man standing in front of me was a hollow shell,
filled with nothing but greed and insecurity.
“You’re not sorry for what you said,
Nathan.”
“You’re sorry that I’m the one with the money.”
“If I were still the poor girl from the rentals,”
“you’d still be laughing at my Southern accent.”
“No!”
he insisted,
reaching for my hand again.
I stepped back,
putting the distance of a thousand miles between us.
“It’s over,
Nathan.”
“I’ve already filed for divorce.”
“The papers will be served to you at the motel you’ll be staying in tonight.”
“Motel?”
he gasped.
“The locks on the Ashford estate were changed two hours ago.”
“It’s the property of the Brooks Foundation now.”
He stared at me,
his mouth hanging open,
the reality of his homelessness finally hitting him.
“You took my house?”
“I took my house,”
I corrected.
“The one my grandmother’s trust paid the mortgage on for forty years.”
“You were just a guest.”
“And your stay has expired.”
The guards took him by the arms then,
gently but firmly.
As they led him away,
the guests began to clap.
It started with one person at the back,
then spread like a wildfire through the ballroom.
May you like
The Ashfords were gone.
The reign of the wrought-iron gates was over.
