Chapter 16 - The Final Confrontation On The Marble Floor“Alexander! Elena!”
Marcus’s voice echoed loudly across the cavernous ballroom, trembling with a pathetic mix of rage and false bravado. He stopped at the base of the dais, pointing an accusing, shaking finger at us.
“You think you’ve won, don't you? You think you can parade around like kings while you stole everything that belonged to me?!” Marcus shrieked, drawing the attention of every single guest in the room.
Sarah stood beside him, a vicious, triumphant smirk plastered across her face. “Your little foundation, your money, your happy life—it’s all built on stolen ground!” she shouted, reaching rapidly into her evening clutch. “And it ends tonight!”
Before Sarah could pull the small, concealed derringer pistol from her bag, Alexander moved with terrifying, blinding speed.
He didn't hesitate. With a flick of his wrist, Alexander tossed a heavy, metallic object straight onto the marble floor at Marcus’s feet.
It was a compact, encrypted digital recorder.
Marcus blinked, staring down at the device. “What… what is this?”
“Play it,” Alexander commanded, his voice echoing with absolute authority across the silent room.
A trembling guest near the front instinctively reached down, picked up the recorder, and pressed play.
Suddenly, Viktor Vance’s gruff, unmistakable voice echoed loudly through the ballroom speakers:
“...Her name is Sarah. And she didn't just give us your security codes. She told us about the foundation’s upcoming charity gala... She promised us that if we got rid of you and the baby, Marcus would finally get his revenge.”
The blood instantly drained from Sarah’s face. Her eyes went wide with pure, unadulterated panic. She dropped her handbag, spilling makeup and a small firearm onto the marble floor.
“No… that’s a lie! That’s a fake! They’re framing us!” Sarah screamed, grabbing Marcus’s arm.
But Marcus wasn't listening to her. He slowly turned his head, staring down at Sarah with sheer horror and betrayal in his eyes.
“You… you hired Viktor Vance?” Marcus whispered, his voice cracking. “You tried to blow up our penthouse? You tried to kill a baby?!”
“I did it for us, Marcus! To get our life back!” Sarah sobbed hysterically, backing away as Marcus shoved her off him with a violent, disgusted push.
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“You insane bitch,” Marcus choked out, falling backward onto the polished marble floor—landing on the exact same spot where Evelyn had dragged me by my hair a year ago.
The irony was poetic, brutal, and absolute.
