Chapter 4 - The Journalist at Table Twelve
The man at table twelve was Julian Reed, an investigative reporter known across the state for dismantling corporate dynasties and uncovering decades-old family scandals. As Arthur’s gaze locked onto him, Julian slowly lowered his phone, gave a polite, chilling nod, and rested his hand near a small digital voice recorder sitting beside his water glass.
"He knows," Arthur muttered, the realization draining the last remaining color from his face. He turned to his sister, his voice dropping to a panicked whisper. "Victoria, if Julian gets his hands on Eleanor's final addendum, the merger with Sterling Global collapses by Monday morning. The stock will plummet."
Victoria’s composure fractured slightly, a thin line of tension appearing at the corner of her mouth. She glared at Maya, her legal mind racing through a dozen contingency plans, none of which seemed viable with a journalist watching every move.
"You planned this," Victoria accused, pointing a manicured finger at Maya. "You timed the release to inflict maximum public damage. This isn't about justice; it's calculated extortion."
Maya slid the document back into the cream-colored envelope, tucking it securely into her satchel. The bruises on her cheek seemed to pulse under the harsh ballroom lighting, a physical reminder of whatever violent encounter had preceded her arrival tonight.
"Extortion is what Arthur and Eleanor did twenty-five years ago when they buried the truth," Maya said, her voice carrying easily across the silent, stunned room. "I'm just excavating."
Clara scrambled back to her feet, her mascara slightly smeared, her face twisted in desperate rage. "Arthur, tell them to drag her out! I don't care about the merger, I don't care about the stock! This is my wedding day! You promised me everything would be mine!"
The slip hung in the air for a fraction of a second, but in the dead silence of the ballroom, every guest heard it clearly. Everything would be mine.
Arthur flinched as if struck. He looked at Clara—truly looked at her—not as the adoring, elegant young woman he had spent the last two years parading through high-society galas, but as someone driven entirely by greed and acquisition. The illusion cracked, exposing the hollow foundation upon which their entire marriage was being built.
"Clara," Arthur began, his voice flat, devoid of its usual warmth. "Be quiet."
"You're defending her?" Clara shrieked, her voice cracking with hysteria. She lunged forward, her fingernails clawing toward Maya’s face.
May you like
Before the guards could react, Maya sidestepped with practiced ease, letting Clara stumble past her and collide heavily with the edge of the wooden podium. The bride let out a sharp cry of pain as her sparkling diamond necklace caught on the sharp corner of the wood, snapping the delicate chain and sending diamonds scattering across the polished floor like frozen tears.
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