CHAPTER 32: Consequences

Monday morning came too soon.

I woke up to Alexander already dressed, on the phone with Marcus.

"What's the status?... And the media?... Handle it. I don't want her seeing those headlines."

He noticed me awake and softened. "I have to go. Keep me updated." He hung up and sat on the bed. "Good morning, Mrs. Sterling."

I smiled. "Good morning, husband. What don't you want me seeing?"

His jaw tightened. "James's arraignment is at 10 AM. The media is having a field day with it. 'Sterling Heir Arrested at Father's Wedding.' 'Family Drama Turns Criminal.' You know how they are."

"Is he okay? James, I mean."

"He spent the night in holding. His lawyer got him out on bail this morning." Alexander's voice was tight. "He's going to plead not guilty to violating the restraining order."

"But he did violate it. We all saw him."

"His lawyer will argue he had a right to attend his father's wedding. That the restraining order was excessive. It'll be messy."

I sat up, feeling nauseous—though whether from pregnancy or stress, I couldn't tell. "So this isn't over."

"It's never over with James." He kissed my forehead. "But you're my wife now. Legally protected. He can't touch you."

"He can still hurt us."

"Not if I destroy him first."

The coldness in his voice startled me. "Alexander—"

"I'm sorry. I know he's my son. But he tried to ruin our wedding, Bella. He's been threatening you for weeks. There's a limit to my patience."

I took his hand. "What are you going to do?"

"What I should have done months ago. Cut him off completely. No more money. No more name. No more Sterling empire for him to inherit."

"You're disinheriting him?"

"I'm protecting my family. You and our baby are my family now. James made his choice."

---

By noon, the headlines were everywhere.

*"STERLING SCANDAL: Son Arrested at Father's Wedding to Ex-Girlfriend"*

*"James Sterling Faces Charges After Crashing Billionaire Dad's Nuptials"*

*"Wedding Crasher: Inside the Sterling Family Meltdown"*

There were photos—James being escorted out by security. Alexander and me dancing. The moment we said "I do."

Some coverage was sympathetic to us. Some painted James as a tragic figure. Most just fed on the drama like vultures.

"Stop reading," Victoria said, appearing at the penthouse with lunch. "You're going to stress yourself out."

"I can't help it. They're acting like this is entertainment."

"It is entertainment. To them." She set down bags of food. "But who cares what strangers think? You're married. You won. End of story."

"It doesn't feel like winning when your husband's son is being arraigned."

"James is being arraigned. Not your problem anymore." Victoria started unpacking containers. "Thai food. Extra mild because pregnancy. Eat."

I picked at the pad thai. "Has Alexander talked to you? About disinheriting James?"

Victoria paused. "He mentioned it."

"And?"

"And I think it's about time." She met my eyes. "James has been coasting on the Sterling name his whole life. Never earned anything. Never worked for anything. Maybe this is the wake-up call he needs."

"Or maybe it'll make him more dangerous."

"Then we deal with it. Together. As a family." She squeezed my hand. "You're a Sterling now, Bella. That means something. It means protection. Resources. Power. Use it."

---

Alexander came home that evening looking exhausted.

"How was court?" I asked.

"Quick. James pleaded not guilty. Trial date set for next month." He loosened his tie. "His lawyer tried to paint me as the villain. Said I turned his client's family against him, used my wealth and power to isolate him."

"That's not true."

"Doesn't matter. It's a narrative." He sank onto the couch. "Judge wasn't buying it, though. Set bail at $50,000 and extended the restraining order. James has to stay 500 feet away from both of us."

"Did you see him? At court?"

"Briefly. He looked..." Alexander's voice cracked. "Broken. Angry. Lost."

I sat beside him, taking his hand. "Do you regret it? Marrying me? All of this?"

He looked at me sharply. "Never. Not for one second."

"But your son—"

"My son made his choices. I made mine." He pulled me close. "I chose love. I chose you. I chose our future. And I'd do it again a thousand times."

"Even knowing what it cost?"

"Even knowing." He kissed me softly. "You and this baby are worth everything, Bella. Everything."

I felt tears threatening. Damn hormones.

"I'm scared," I admitted. "Of what comes next. Of James. Of the trial. Of being a mother. Of all of it."

"Me too." He rested his hand on my bump. "But we'll figure it out. Together."

"You keep saying that."

"Because it's true. We're a team now, Mrs. Sterling. For better or worse. In sickness and health. Remember?"

"I remember." I smiled through tears. "Those were some pretty good vows."

"Best I've ever written." He stood, pulling me up. "Come on. Let's order dinner and forget about James and trials and media circuses."

"What should we order?"

"Whatever the baby wants."

I thought about it. "Ice cream and pickles."

He laughed. "Really? The cliché?"

"The baby doesn't care about clichés. The baby wants ice cream and pickles."

"Then ice cream and pickles it is."

As he ordered from three different places to get the specific ice cream flavor and pickle brand I wanted, I watched him.

This man. My husband. Who'd chosen me over everything. Who was ordering pickles at 8 PM on a Monday because our baby wanted them.

"I love you," I said suddenly.

He looked up from his phone, surprised. "I love you too. What brought that on?"

"You're ordering pickles without judgment. That's true love."

"Wait until you see what I do when the baby arrives. Pickles will seem tame."

"Promise?"

"Promise." He pulled me into his arms. "I'm in this, Bella. All the way. Whatever comes next—trials, media, sleepless nights with a newborn, James's schemes—I'm here."

"Even when I'm huge and cranky and can't see my feet?"

"Especially then. That's when you'll need me most."

I buried my face in his chest, breathing him in. Sandalwood and safety.

The doorbell rang. Food had arrived—impossibly fast, but that's what happened when you were a Sterling.

We ate on the couch, my feet in his lap, watching terrible reality TV and laughing at the drama that wasn't ours.

"This is nice," I said around a mouthful of mint chocolate chip ice cream and dill pickle.

"This is disgusting," he corrected, watching me combine them. "But you're cute, so I'll allow it."

"So generous."

"I'm a generous husband."

"You are." I smiled. "The best husband."

"The only husband you'll ever have."

"Possessive."

"Practical." He kissed my pickle-flavored lips. "You're stuck with me now, Mrs. Sterling."

"Good," I said. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

And despite everything—despite James, despite the trial, despite the chaos—I meant it.

This was exactly where I belonged.