Chapter 3 - The Falling Cards
Everett stood completely frozen with his hand still awkwardly extended in the air.
He stared in sheer, paralyzing disbelief as the legendary billionaire bowed to his despised wife.
"Alexander, what in the world are you doing?" Everett stammered, his voice cracking with panic.
Sterling slowly turned around and looked at my husband with absolute, freezing contempt.
"I am showing proper respect to my true boss, you pathetic fool," Sterling replied loudly.
The heavy word echoed off the marble walls, shattering the last remaining illusion of Everett's power.
Sterling revealed that he had been secretly working for my family's estate for over two decades.
"Every single dollar of funding you received was secretly approved by Evelyn," Sterling explained to the shocked crowd.
Everett stumbled backward, his hands desperately clutching his chest as he struggled to breathe.
He finally realized that his entire identity as a brilliant CEO was a carefully manufactured lie.
I had silently propped him up for ten years just to fulfill a promise to his late father.
"Grant, execute the immediate termination protocol," I commanded softly, but firmly.
Grant tapped the glowing screen of his tactical tablet with a swift, decisive motion.
Instantly, Everett's expensive cellular phone began to vibrate wildly in his pocket.
Everett pulled it out, his eyes widening in absolute horror as a cascade of banking alerts filled his screen.
His offshore accounts, his trust funds, and his secret credit lines were all simultaneously draining to a zero balance.
"My money is completely gone!" Everett screamed, shaking his phone frantically in the air.
Patricia watched her beloved son crumble into a pathetic, bankrupt mess on the ballroom floor.
She knew her luxurious lifestyle of country clubs and expensive shopping sprees was officially over.
Patricia suddenly let out a dramatic, high-pitched gasp and violently clutched her chest.
"My heart!" she wailed loudly, collapsing onto the marble floor in a theatrical display of agony.
She squeezed her eyes shut and began taking loud, exaggerated gasps for air to draw sympathy.
"Somebody call an ambulance for my poor mother!" Everett cried, rushing to her side.
He glared up at me, hoping the wealthy guests would see me as a heartless monster.
Within seconds, two serious-looking paramedics forcefully pushed their way through the massive crowd.
They were carrying a heavy red medical bag and moving with intense, focused urgency.
They knelt beside Patricia, who was still groaning loudly and demanding immediate oxygen.
The lead paramedic did not reach for a stethoscope or a blood pressure cuff.
Instead, he reached into his red medical bag and pulled out a pair of heavy steel handcuffs.
"Patricia Hart, you are under arrest for the massive embezzlement of the children's charity fund," the paramedic announced.
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He flashed a shiny, gold FBI badge that had been hidden underneath his uniform jacket.
Patricia's eyes snapped wide open, her fake heart attack miraculously cured in an instant.
