Chapter 12 - The Confession Screen
The colossal high-definition screen behind the head table illuminated the entire ballroom in an eerie, pulsing red glow. Instead of corporate charts and philanthropic goals, the live-stream feed showed Eleanor Vance sitting behind a stainless-steel interrogation table in a federal holding cell, her ruined sequin gown replaced by an orange jumpsuit, her hair completely unraveled around her pale, panic-stricken face.
A collective wave of absolute terror rippled through the hundreds of elite guests. Champagne flutes slipped from trembling fingers, shattering against the marble floor with sharp, echoing pops.
"Turn that off! Cut the power to the AV booth immediately!" Richard Vance screamed into his microphone, his voice cracking with hysterical panic as he lunged toward the master control panel on the stage.
Before Richard could take three steps, two federal marshals dressed in full tactical gear emerged from the wings of the stage, blocking his path with absolute, immovable authority.
"Step away from the control console, Mr. Vance," the lead marshal commanded, resting his hand firmly on the holster of his sidearm. "You are interfering with an active federal subpoena and wiretapping broadcast."
Julian and Maya slowly walked up the steps to the elevated head table, their footsteps ringing out over the microphone feedback loop. Julian kept his eyes locked on the terrified faces of the board members sitting frozen in their seats, while Maya’s gaze remained fixed on the massive screen broadcasting her final vengeance.
On the screen, the audio feed of Eleanor’s interrogation crackled to life, echoing clearly across the vast ballroom.
"State your full name for the record," a federal investigator's voice demanded through the speakers.
Eleanor’s face twisted in agony on the giant display. "Eleanor Vance. But... but you don't understand, I built this empire! I earned every cent!"
"By embezzling twenty-two billion dollars from the Arthur Vance estate, forging corporate signatures, and framing Silas Vance for federal crimes you committed thirty years ago?" the investigator countered smoothly. "And let's discuss your grandson's wife, Maya Vance. Why did you force her into domestic servitude and attempt to seize her legal assets last night?"
Eleanor stared straight into the camera lens, her eyes bulging with sheer, unadulterated hatred. "Because she’s a nobody! She found the original ledger! She was going to expose how my entire family's wealth was built on blood, theft, and corporate murder!"
The ballroom erupted into pure, unmitigated chaos. Senators, CEOs, and high-society socialites scrambled backward from their tables, shouting over one another, reaching for their phones to frantically liquidate their own portfolios before the federal contagion reached them.
Richard Vance turned back to face Julian and Maya, his face purple with rage, his corporate veneer completely stripped away.
"You absolute lunatics!" Richard snarled, spitting as he spoke. "You've destroyed us all! Vance Holdings is worth zero as of right now! The stock market is going to crash our entire sector by the opening bell!"
Maya finally stepped forward, releasing her arm from Julian’s. She walked right up to the edge of the stage, looking down at the frantic corporate officers with eyes as cold and unforgiving as winter ice.
"Vance Holdings isn't crashing, Richard," Maya said, her voice carrying clearly through the master microphone. "It's being liquidated. And every stolen penny is being returned to the public trusts your family robbed three decades ago."
Richard’s eyes widened with pure horror as he realized the full, terrifying scope of what had happened.
"Who... who authorized that transfer?" Richard whispered, his voice trembling uncontrollably. "Only the primary beneficiary of the master trust has legal signing authority."
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Maya offered a slow, chilling smile, turning slightly to gesture toward the side entrance of the ballroom, where the heavy doors swung open once more.
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