Chapter 40
CHAPTER FORTY
Ryder
I try to focus on the guests, the grand ballroom, and the musicians playing in the corner, but I can’t.
I’m distracted.
It’s her. Always her.
I’ve spent the last couple of days trying to keep my head in the game, keeping my distance, convincing myself that I don’t need to fix what’s been broken between us just yet.
But when I see her standing there, greeting guests, her smile too wide, her laughter a little too forced, it all falls apart.
She looks stunning.
It’s not just the dress, though I’ll admit it’s damn near impossible not to appreciate the way it hugs every curve, the way the soft blue fabric almost seems to glow against her skin.
It’s everything. It’s the way she’s holding herself tonight, carrying the weight of the world and still trying to make it look easy.
She’s flawless, and it’s all I can do not to walk across the room, to pull her aside, to ask her why she’s acting fine when I know she’s falling apart inside. I can see it.
I hate myself for not being the one to help her.
I’ve been avoiding her, too. I’m good at that. Good at keeping my distance, convincing myself that I don’t deserve to be close to her.
After everything that happened, I don’t know how to look her in the eye without lying to her. She deserves better than me, better than the mess I’ve become. And I don’t know if I can be what she needs.
But watching her stand there, talking to the guests happily, her eyes glinting with that same fire I’ve come to admire, makes me feel shitty. She’s hiding behind that smile, and I’m standing here watching it all unfold.
She’s trying to do everything for the hotel, for this place we both care about. But what about her? What about us?
I shake my head, trying to focus on something other than her. The gala is in full swing now, guests laughing and mingling, the clinking of glasses filling the air.
I force myself to smile as I exchange pleasantries with a couple of hotel investors. The words feel like they’re coming from someone else, as though I’m playing a part in a scene I didn’t sign up for.
Tonight isn’t about me and Sunny. Tonight is about the hotel.
It has to be. I can’t let it all slip away because I’m too busy feeling sorry for myself.
But that’s easier said than done.
I catch her glance across the room. Her eyes meet mine for a brief second, but there’s nothing in her gaze.
No warmth. No softness. Just that same mask she’s been wearing for the past couple of days. And it kills me.
I force myself to look away, but my eyes keep wandering back to her. I swallow, trying to push the guilt away, but then I hear it.
A ruckus on the dance floor.
I glance over, and there’s Pearl, of course, twirling as the star of the show. She’s somehow managing to dominate the entire room with her presence, drawing attention from every direction. The woman is a force of nature, and tonight she’s giving it her all.
I can’t help but smile. For all the craziness she causes, Pearl’s precisely what this place needs.
Just as I’m starting to settle back into the rhythm of the night, I see him.
Vincent.
He’s standing in the doorway like he belongs here, as if this isn’t the last place on earth anyone would expect to see him.
I freeze, my stomach sinking. What the fuck is he doing here?
How the hell did he even get in?
I watch Vincent’s every move, a tight knot forming in my chest. He’s circulating the room like a vulture, making me feel sick.
I don’t have to wait long to hear it.
“…can you believe this? The hotel owes me a fortune… and Evie, God rest her soul, promised to pay me back. But now…” he pauses for effect, looking around before continuing, “now Sunny’s just pretending everything’s fine, acting like the place is going to be saved when they don’t even have the funds to stay afloat. ”
My blood runs cold. So that’s why he’s here.
This is it. This is where it all changes.
I can’t just let this slide.
I feel the anger building in my chest like a tide, swelling, threatening to break. Vincent, smug and self-satisfied, is peddling lies about Sunny and the hotel, using Evie’s memory as a pawn in his game.
Every word he says makes me want to hit him. Hard.
I watch him, hands clenching at my sides. I can’t let this go on any longer.
This is the same man who’s tried to break this hotel apart, who’s tried to manipulate Sunny into doing things she shouldn’t have to do, and now he’s using the very people he’s hurt to further his own agenda.
I could go over there and confront him. Throw him out. Call him out on his bullshit.
But that’s not going to do anything. Not here. Not in front of all these people, not without making a scene.
I need something bigger.
I didn’t plan on Sunny finding out what I’ve been up to in this manner, but I have no choice now.
My mind starts to work in overdrive, and that’s when it hits me.
I’ve been avoiding using my name and the fact that I have power and influence. But I’ve reached the point where I can’t pretend anymore.
If I want to protect this place, protect Sunny, protect Evie’s legacy, then I have to do it.
I grab my phone and text Nolan. I need journalists here—as many as possible.
It’s a risk. The last thing I want is for this gala to turn into a media circus. We want publicity, but not drama.
I’ve been standing in the shadows for too long, though. I’m done being quiet.
I step away from the crowd, trying not to draw attention, but I can feel the moment pressing down on me. I move quickly to the side of the ballroom, my heart hammering in my chest.
A few minutes later, I see the press swarm toward me, eager and ready.
They know me. They know my face. And tonight, I’m going to make sure they remember my name.
I walk back to the center of the ballroom, my pulse pounding. The chatter around the room dies down as I move through the crowd, everyone sensing something’s about to happen.
I take a deep breath. I don’t have a plan. Not really. But I know one thing: I have to get Vincent to stop talking. To stop poisoning everyone’s perception of the hotel, of Sunny, of Evie.
I don’t give a damn about the fallout. I’m about to put everything on the line.
I stand up on the raised platform, just a few feet above the crowd. The eyes of the guests, the investors, the journalists, all turn toward me.
Their gaze settles on my shoulders, but I don’t flinch. I’ve lived through worse. I’m not scared now.
I lift my hand, silencing the room, letting the tension hang in the air for a moment longer.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” I start. “Thank you so much for coming tonight for joining us in what is truly a special occasion for this hotel, for Evie’s legacy, and for all of us here who’ve worked tirelessly to bring it back to life.
It’s not just a building… it’s a piece of history.
And we are here to celebrate that. But more than that, I think it’s time we clear the air. ”
The journalists instinctively move forward, pulling out their phones and cameras, snapping photos, eager for the next headline.
I lock eyes with Vincent, who has been caught in a trap. He tries to smile, but it’s thin, forced.
I can see it. He knows this isn’t going to go the way he thinks it will.
“I’ve been standing here, listening to the rumors.
Listening to Vincent Lang, here,” I gesture toward him, “talking about the money the hotel owes him how Evie promised him repayment before she passed. And how Sunny’s not honoring her legacy.
But let me set the record straight, for everyone who’s wondering, for all of you who are here to support this place. ”
I pause for a moment, gathering my thoughts. I need to be deliberate about this. I need to get everything right.
“Vincent,” I continue, unwavering, “I don’t think you’re telling the full story.
You’re not being honest about your involvement here.
The truth is, you’ve been using this hotel, using Evie’s legacy, as leverage for your own gain for far too long.
And now, you’re doing the same thing to Sunny.
Let me show you all what’s really been going on. ”
I motion for Nolan, and within moments, he steps forward, holding a stack of papers. The press murmurs curiously, and I glance over at Vincent one more time. He’s trying to mask the growing panic in his eyes, but it’s too late.
The game is up.
“These,” I say, holding up the documents, “are the official records of Vincent Lang’s dealings with this hotel. This is a trail of inflated invoices, false contracts, and manipulated financial records designed to drive this hotel into bankruptcy. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”
I flip through the pages for effect, letting the sound of rustling paper settle over the room.
“This isn’t some mistake, some unfortunate turn of events. No, this is deliberate. Vincent Lang has been manipulating the books, creating fake debts, and setting up phantom vendors. He’s done it at multiple properties across the country, and now he’s trying to do the same thing here.”
A sharp gasp cuts through the room as the journalists’ pens begin to fly, furiously taking notes, their cameras snapping nonstop.
“I’m sure many of you have heard about the debts the hotel owes,” I say, scanning the crowd.
“But let me make this very clear: These debts are inflated. Some of them don’t even exist. Lang has orchestrated this entire situation.
He’s been trying to buy us out for months, and if you think this is about money, you’re wrong.
This is about control. He’s using the legal threats, the inflated debts, the smear campaigns to force Sunny and this hotel into submission, so he can swoop in and buy it for pennies on the dollar. ”
I feel the anger burn hotter in my chest.
“He’s done this before, at The Crescent Harbor in Providence. He’s destroyed countless businesses, driven them to the edge, and then bought them out for a fraction of their worth. But not this time. Not with Sunny, not with The Garland Rose, and not with Evie’s legacy.”
I turn my gaze to Vincent, watching him stiffen under the scrutiny.
“You’ve been playing a dangerous game, Lang, but the truth is out now. And I’m not going to let you ruin this place, or the people who’ve worked so hard to keep it alive.”
The room is dead silent now, every single person hanging on my words. I can almost taste the electricity in the air.
“Sunny and I are committed to this place. We will see this hotel thrive and ensure Evie’s dream lives on. And for anyone who wants to stand in our way, be warned. We’re not afraid to fight back. We’re not afraid to expose the truth.”
I pause, letting my words settle before I add the final blow.
“So, to everyone here tonight, especially to those who Vincent’s lies have misled, let me make this very clear: The Garland Rose is not for sale. And it’s not going anywhere.”
I give a final look at Vincent, whose face is now red with fury. He opens his mouth to say something, but I hold up my hand, silencing him.
“You’re done.”
I turn away from him, addressing the room once more.
“Tonight is about celebrating this hotel and its future, not letting it be dragged down by deceit and manipulation. And for those who still believe in what we’re doing here…
thank you for your support. Together, we will prove that The Garland Rose isn’t just a hotel. It’s a legacy. And it’s here to stay.”
I let those last words hang in the air, then step down from the platform, feeling the moment settle into my bones. There’s no going back now.
This is war.
The press swarms around me, their questions coming fast and furious, but I don’t answer any of them right now.
Not until I’ve dealt with Vincent. Not until I’ve made sure he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that this is my fight now.
And he’s lost.