But Evelyn and Marcus had never paid attention to anyone they considered beneath them.
“You think you know who I am, Mrs. Sinclair?” Arthur asked quietly.
“I know you’re a nobody!” Evelyn spat. “Just like her! Security! I said get them out of here!”
The two security guards had stopped dead in their tracks at the bottom of the stairs. They were looking at Richard, the CFO, who was furiously shaking his head, waving them off.
“Evelyn, shut up,” Richard hissed. “Just… shut your mouth for one second.”
“Excuse me?” Evelyn spun on him. “I am the matriarch of—”
“You have nothing!” Richard barked, his face red with stress. He pointed a trembling finger at Arthur. “Do you have any idea who you’re screaming at? That’s him! That’s the CEO of Vanguard Holdings!”
The collective gasp from the pews was loud enough to echo.
Evelyn froze. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She stared at Arthur, her eyes darting from his tailored suit to his calm, collected expression, and finally to the way he was standing slightly behind me, in a protective, deferential posture.
Marcus looked like he had been struck by lightning. The phone slipped from his hand, clattering against the marble steps and sliding down to stop at my feet.
“No,” Marcus choked out. He looked at Arthur, then at me. “No, Vanguard’s CEO is Arthur Sterling. You… Maya, your last name is… it’s Brooks.”
“Brooks is my mother’s maiden name,” I said, looking down at the man I had almost promised to spend my life with. “I used it when I moved to this city. I used it when I applied for the barista job where we met. Because I wanted to build a life on my own. I wanted to meet people who cared about who I was, not what my father owned.”
I took a step down the stairs, closing the distance between us. Marcus instinctively backed up, his eyes wide with a horrifying realization.
“I thought I found that in you, Marcus,” I said, keeping my voice perfectly even. “I spent two years listening to you talk about how much you hated the superficiality of your world. I listened to you promise me that we didn’t need money to be happy. I watched you pretend to be a good man.”
“Maya,” Marcus stammered, raising his hands, his palms facing outward in a gesture of frantic surrender. “Maya, baby, wait. You’re… you’re Arthur Sterling’s daughter?”
“I am his only daughter,” I said. “The sole heir to Vanguard Holdings. The company that has been keeping your pathetic, mismanaged logistics firm on life support for the last six months.”
In the aisle, Chloe let out a sharp, furious laugh.
She turned around, grabbing the heavy silk of her Vera Wang skirt and hiking it up to her knees. She stormed back up the aisle toward her father.
“Chloe, wait!” Marcus yelled, spinning toward her. “Chloe, don’t leave, we can fix this!”