Chapter 3 - THE FAKE HEIRESS AND THE GRAND ILLUSION
"SHE CLAIMED TO BE A BILLIONAIRE’S DAUGHTER—UNTIL THE REAL QUEEN SHOWED UP WITH THE RECEIPTS"
The grand ballroom of the Drake Hotel was packed with journalists, investors, and city officials. Banners reading VANGUARD DEVELOPMENT: SHAPING CHICAGO’S FUTURE hung from the high ceilings.
Chase stood at the podium, looking every bit the self-made billionaire. Beside him stood Brielle, wearing an ostentatious diamond necklace and a tight silk dress that accentuated her stomach. She occasionally patted her belly, sending a clear message to the cameras about the "Vanguard Heir" on the way.
"We are not just building offices," Chase announced into the microphone, his voice dripping with charisma. "With the backing of the Vale Group and our revolutionary design partner, Jones Prescott, we are building a legacy."
Applause shook the room.
From the back of the hall, a voice cut through the clapping like a knife through paper.
"A legacy built on stolen property is nothing but a house of cards, Chase."
The room went dead silent. The journalists turned their cameras toward the entrance.
Two lines of security guards in black suits cleared a path through the crowd. Walking down the center was Adeline.
Her short, sharp haircut framed a face that looked entirely different from the weary woman Chase had left on the floor six weeks ago. Her cream suit radiated power, and the emerald falcon on her lapel caught the flashing lights of the cameras. Beside her walked Nolan Prescott, his presence alone causing several city council members in the front row to gasp.
Chase froze. His hand clutched the edges of the podium so hard his knuckles turned white.
"Adeline?" he muttered, his voice cracking through the live microphone. "What... what are you doing here? I told you, our divorce papers are being handled by my lawyers. You can't just barge in here and make a scene!"
Brielle stepped forward, her face turning a furious shade of red. "Get her out of here! Security, remove this woman! She’s mentally unstable. She’s been stalking my fiancé ever since she couldn't trap him with a fake pregnancy!"
Adeline didn't flinch. She stopped ten feet from the stage, looking up at them with a calm, pitying smile.
"A fake pregnancy?" Adeline repeated softly, her voice carrying through the quiet room. She looked directly at Brielle. "Is that what you told Chase? That I lied about the baby I lost while you pushed me down the stairs?"
The crowd murmured. Flashbulbs went off rapidly.
"That's a lie!" Brielle screamed. "You tripped! Chase, tell them!"
Chase looked panicked. He could see the investors in the front row whispering. "Adeline, stop this. If you want more money in the settlement, we can discuss it privately. Don't ruin your own reputation."
"My reputation?" Adeline chuckled. She turned to the lead investor, an elderly man named Mr. Henderson, who had been a close friend of her grandfather for thirty years. "Mr. Henderson, does Vanguard have the exclusive rights to the Phoenix Marina design?"
Henderson stood up, looking confused. "Yes, young lady. Chase showed us the signed contract from the designer, Jones Prescott."
"Nolan, please show Mr. Henderson the original patent registration," Adeline said.
Nolan stepped forward and handed a leather folder to Henderson. "The trademark 'Jones Prescott' has been owned exclusively by the Prescott Family Trust since 2018. The signature on Chase’s contract is a forgery, signed by an employee he hired to mimic my sister’s handwriting."
Chase’s face drained of color. "That's impossible. Jones Prescott is a freelance designer from the South Side!"
"No, Chase," Adeline said, taking a step closer to the stage. "I am Jones Prescott. I designed the South Side Civic Center. I designed the Phoenix Marina. I designed every single building that made you a rich man. And today, I am officially revoking your license to use any of them."
A collective gasp echoed through the ballroom.
"You?" Brielle laughed hysterically, trying to salvage the situation. "You’re just a charity case Chase took in! You're an orphan! Your name is Jones!"
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"Her name is Adeline Jones Prescott," Nolan’s voice boomed. "She is the sole heiress to the Prescott Group. And you, Brielle..." Nolan pulled out a second document. "Are the daughter of Arthur Vale, a bankrupt contractor from Indiana who changed his name to Marcus Vale to escape fraud charges. Your 'billionaire' father currently has forty-two active lawsuits against him for embezzlement."
The room erupted into absolute chaos.
