Chapter 3 - THE DEMOLITION
"Marcus?" Connor’s voice was barely a whisper, trembling with a terrifying mix of realization and betrayal.
"Connor, bro, wait—" Marcus stuttered, raising his hands defensively as he took another step back. "It’s not what you think—"
"Page seven," I interrupted effortlessly, breaking the tension like a glass bottle against stone. "That’s the preliminary DNA report obtained via court subpoena. The biological father of the boy Alyssa is carrying... is sitting right there in your best man’s suit."
"YOU SLUT!" Betsy screamed, completely losing her composure. She lunged across the front row, grabbing a handful of Alyssa’s lace veil and yanking it backward. Alyssa shrieked, dropping her flowers as the two women began shoving each other right at the foot of the altar.
"Get off me, you crazy old hag!" Alyssa shrieked, swinging her designer clutch at Betsy’s head.
The wedding guests erupted into utter chaos. High-society women were standing on chairs to record the fight, investors were whispering frantically into their phones, and paparazzi lenses were clicking like automatic gunfire.
Connor stood frozen in the middle of the storm, his eyes fixed on the white envelope in my hand. He looked like a man standing on the deck of a sinking ship, completely unable to grasp how quickly his paradise had turned into hell.
"You... you knew?" Connor stammered, stepping toward me, his hand reaching out blindly. "Victoria... please... tell me this is a joke. Tell me you made this up to get back at me."
"I don't make things up, Connor. I execute plans," I said coldly, stepping back so his hand met empty air. "You wanted a son so badly that you traded your entire life for a lie. You threw your real daughter—and the woman who built you—into the trash for a fake heir."
"Victoria, wait! We can fix this!" Connor panicked, his composure completely shattering. He fell to one knee, looking up at me with tears pooling in his eyes. "I was tricked! Alyssa lied to me! My mother pushed me! You know how my mother is! Please, Tori, think of our history! Six years!"
"Six years where I financed your company, paid off your mother's gambling debts, and hid your incompetence from the board," I corrected him sharply. "And speaking of your company..."
I tapped my fingers on the envelope.
"This isn't just a medical file, Connor. Inside this envelope is also a formal notice of asset forfeiture from Davis Hardy Law."
Connor’s breath caught in his throat. "What?"
"The penthouse you move into tonight? Foreclosed. The sports car you drove here? Repossessed as of ten minutes ago—the tow truck is outside right now. And your corporate account? Frozen under charges of grand larceny and embezzlement."
"You can't do that!" Connor shrieked, scrambling back up to his feet, his face red with sudden panic. "I am the CEO of Vanguard Media!"
"You were the CEO," Parker’s voice boomed from the back of the room. My brother walked down the aisle, holding a briefcase and flanked by two uniformed sheriff's deputies. "Until two hours ago, when the board of directors held an emergency meeting. Since 85% of the voting shares are held by the Vance Family Trust—which belongs exclusively to Victoria—you have been officially removed from your position. Effective immediately."
"Deputies," Parker pointed a finger at Connor. "That man is currently in possession of corporate property and has actively siphoned trust funds. Serve him."
The deputies moved forward smoothly, pulling out a pair of handcuffs.
"No! Get your hands off me! Do you know who I am?!" Connor screamed, thrashing as the deputies grabbed his arms and forced them behind his back. The crowd gasped in horror as the groom was forcefully shoved onto his knees right on his own wedding runner.
Betsy was on the floor, her hair torn, her emerald dress stained with spilled champagne from the chaos, sobbing uncontrollably as she watched her prized son get hand-cuffed like a common criminal. Alyssa was already sprinting toward the side exits, her high heels clicking wildly against the marble, trying to escape the cameras.
Connor looked up at me from the floor, his face twisted in desperate, pitiful agony. "Tori! Please! What about Brinley?! She's my daughter! You can't do this to her father!"
I looked down at him, holding my daughter tighter against my chest. Brinley let out a tiny, sweet coo, her little fingers brushing against my sapphire necklace.
"Brinley doesn't have a father," I said, my voice echoing coldly over his pathetic whimpers. "She only has a mother. And a legacy you will never touch again."
I turned my back on him and walked toward the grand exit.
As I pushed through the glass doors into the cool night air, the flashing lights of the police cruisers illuminated the night sky. But as I stepped into my waiting black limousine, Parker caught my arm.
May you like
His face wasn't triumphant. It was dead serious.
"Victoria," Parker whispered, looking at his phone. "We have a massive problem."
