Chapter 3 - The Intruding Groom
Grant Kingsley looked insane.
He was still wearing his tuxedo—a tailored charcoal Tom Ford suit with a white silk boutonnière pinned to his lapel. But the lapel was rumpled, his hair was disheveled from the wind, and his silk tie was loosened at his throat. The immaculate, icy billionaire who had dictated the social hierarchy of Manhattan for a decade looked undone.
Behind him stood two large men in navy suits—his personal security detail—looking visibly stressed as two hospital guards tried in vain to block their path.
Grant pushed past them, taking two aggressive steps into the room before he abruptly halted.
Dominic was standing in the middle of the room, blocking his path like a monolith.
Grant’s eyes narrowed, shifting from the hospital bed to the man standing in front of it. "Who the hell are you?"
Dominic didn't answer immediately. He took a slow, deliberate breath, adjusting his posture with terrifying composure. "This is a private recovery wing, Mr. Kingsley. You are trespassing."
"Trespassing?" Grant let out a hysterical, breathless laugh. He tried to look over Dominic’s shoulder toward me, but Dominic subtly shifted his weight, maintaining the blockade. "Claire! Claire, get this staff member out of the room! What is going on here?"
"I asked him to stay," I said from behind Dominic. My voice was surprisingly steady, forged in the heat of the quiet strength Dominic had given me over the last nine months.
Grant’s head snapped toward the sound of my voice. "Claire... I heard a child. I heard a baby." He took a step forward, but Dominic placed a single hand on Grant's chest.
It wasn't a violent push, but the impact made Grant stop instantly. The sheer physical presence of Dominic Moretti was not something Grant was accustomed to encountering in his boardroom world.
"Do not take another step," Dominic said, his voice dropping into a register that signaled absolute danger.
Grant looked down at Dominic's hand on his chest, then up into Dominic's eyes. Recognition slowly dawned on the billionaire's face, mixed with a sudden, sharp burst of elite arrogance.
"Moretti," Grant spat, the name tasting like ash in his mouth. "Dominic Moretti. I thought you were sitting in a federal courtroom in Chicago."
"My business in Chicago is concluded," Dominic replied evenly. "My business in New York is just beginning."
"What are you doing in my ex-wife's hospital room?" Grant demanded, his eyes darting wildly. "Claire, what is he doing here? Why are you with him?"
"I am her legal representative and her private security counsel," Dominic said. "And right now, you are harassing a patient who has just undergone a major medical procedure."
"Medical procedure?" Grant shouted, his control completely breaking. He pointed a finger past Dominic's shoulder. "She had a baby! I heard it! The timeline—Claire, look at me!"
Dominic didn't move an inch.
I sat up slightly, holding my baby beneath the blanket, her tiny face hidden against my warm skin. "Look at you, Grant? Look at what? You're supposed to be at the altar."
"The altar?" Grant’s face twisted in rage. "You think I give a shit about the wedding right now? You gave birth nine months after our divorce was finalized! Nine months! Do the math, Claire!"
"I did the math," I said coldly. "And so did the judge who signed our divorce papers—the ones where you swore under oath that our marriage produced no children and that I was medically incapable of conceiving."
Grant winced as if struck. His hand tightened into a fist at his side. "That was... those were legal maneuvers! You agreed to the settlement!"
"I agreed because you threatened to ruin my family's remaining estate," I retorted. "You destroyed my reputation. You called me barren to the entire world so you could marry Sienna without looking like a monster."
"Is it mine?" Grant yelled, stepping closer, ignoring the warning in Dominic's posture. "Claire! Tell me the truth! Is that child mine?"
"Mr. Kingsley," Dominic interrupted, his voice dropping into a terrifying calm. "If you raise your voice in this room again, I will have you removed by hospital security and NYPD for domestic harassment."
"This is my family!" Grant roared.
"You have no family in this room," Dominic said. He stepped forward, forcing Grant back toward the doorway by sheer physical pressure. "Your family is currently sitting in a church on 5th Avenue, wondering why the groom abandoned his bride at the altar for a woman he claimed was nothing to him."
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Grant gasped, looking between Dominic and the dark corner where my bed lay. "You think you've won something here? You think you can hide a child from me? If that baby is a Kingsley, I will take her from you before she takes her first steps! I have the best attorneys in the country!"
"Then I suggest you go hire them," Dominic said softly, pulling the door open wider. "Because you're going to need every single one."
