Chapter 3 - The Scramble for the Exit
The silence in the ballroom broke all at once, replaced by the chaotic rustling of expensive fabrics and the frantic scraping of chairs.
The first to move was Arthur Sterling, the managing partner of Julian’s law firm and the primary investor in Julian’s upcoming partnership promotion. Arthur’s face turned a violent shade of purple as he looked down at the financial statements scattered near his feet—statements that proved Julian had been quietly bleeding Arthur’s own accounts to fund his lavish lifestyle and wedding.
"Vance," Arthur growled, his voice trembling with a mixture of fury and disbelief. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Arthur! Wait, please, it's a misunderstanding—it's a smear campaign!" Julian stammered, scrambling to his feet, his pristine tuxedo jacket stained with spilled champagne and dirt from the floor. He lunged toward Arthur, but the older man recoiled as if Julian carried a contagious disease.
"Stay away from me," Arthur hissed. "Monday morning, every forensic auditor in the state will be tearing your office apart. You're finished, Julian. You're completely done."
Victoria stared at Julian in absolute horror. The dream life she had meticulously constructed—the penthouse, the country club memberships, the social prestige of marrying a rising legal star—evaporated in real-time. She looked down at the flash drive lying in the dust, then up at Julian, who was now pleading with guests who wouldn't even meet his eyes.
Without a word, Victoria ripped her diamond tennis bracelet off her wrist, threw it onto the floor beside the documents, and turned on her heel, marching toward the grand exit without looking back. Her bridesmaids scrambled after her, their designer gowns sweeping up the dust of a ruined wedding.
The guests began to filter out in a panicked exodus, desperate to distance themselves from the unfolding federal disaster. Within ten minutes, the grand ballroom—once filled with laughter, string music, and elitist mockery—was nearly empty, save for a few caterers nervously clearing away half-eaten plates.
Julian stood in the center of the devastation, his shoulders slumped, his tie undone, looking like a ghost haunting his own funeral.
He slowly turned his head toward our table.
May you like
His eyes were bloodshot, wide with a mixture of psychotic rage and sheer despair. He took a staggering step forward, pointing a shaking finger directly at me.
"You," Julian whispered, his voice shaking with venom. "You put him up to this. This is your revenge."
