Page 124 of Babies for the Christmas Grump

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.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Sunny

December 24th

What just happened?

I stand frozen in the middle of the ballroom, my mind reeling, trying to catch up with the whirlwind of what just unfolded. Ryder Hale just dropped a bombshell that left the entire room in stunned silence.

Is this what he’s been working on?

He called Vincent out in front of all those people, and I had no idea it was coming. I blink rapidly, trying to make sense of this.

It’s like I’m watching a scene from some high-stakes thriller, and I somehow got cast in the role of the unsuspecting lead.

But here I am, smack dab in the middle of my own drama, with Christmas lights twinkling merrily overhead. The universe thought, “What’s the best way to make a holiday season memorable? Let’s toss in a little bit of scandal, shall we?”

The colorful lights flicker in the background, entirely at odds with the tension I can feel vibrating in the air. The crowd is buzzing, voices rising in waves.

Some people are whispering, some are gaping, and more than a few have their phones out. I can’t even blame them. Ryder just went nuclear on Vincent in front of everyone.

And then, like the cherry on this insane sundae, blue lights flash outside the tall ballroom windows.

I blink, stunned, as two uniformed officers stride inside. Gasps ripple through the crowd as they head straight for Vincent.

He tries to smooth his suit, that fake confident smile plastered on his face, but his hands twitch as they cuff him.

“Vincent Lang, you’re under arrest for fraud and embezzlement,” one officer announces, clear enough for half the room to hear.

I swear my brain short-circuits. Arrested. Inmyballroom. On Christmas Eve.

I glance at Ryder, but he’s calm, almost too calm, watching Vincent sputter protests that no one believes. My knees nearly buckle. I don’t know if I want to hug Ryder, yell at him, or both.

The officers march Vincent out the front doors, his protests swallowed by the roar of conversation. It’s insane for another minute. Guests buzzing, champagne glasses rattling as servers pause mid-step.

How do we bring the gala back fromthis?

Glad as I am to see Vincent brought to his knees, I’m scared for the party. The galaneedsto be positive, so I can keep the hotel moving in the right direction.

My chest tightens as I glance at Ryder, who’s standing off to the side, seemingly unfazed by the spectacle he just created. I mean, I get why he did it, but that doesn’t shut the panic down…

Is this whole night going to be ruined?

I take a step back, watching as the last of the press filters out of the ballroom, their voices a low hum in the background.

The murmurs in the room shift, slowly at first, then with more force. The tides finally give in to the moon’s pull.

People are talking. They’re laughing again. The music picks up in volume, almost like it never stopped.