Chapter 9 - Ambush at the Gala
On the main stage down below, Julian raised his hands to quiet the roaring crowd of reporters. "Thank you all. We will now play a short memorial video honoring the history of the Harrington family foundation—"
Julian clicked a remote control in his hand.
The massive 50-foot LED screen behind the podium flickered. But instead of the corporate PR video, the screen suddenly flashed bright red, followed by a loud spike of static that blared through the auditorium's surround-sound speakers.
The reporters went quiet. Julian frowned, clicking the remote frantically. "Technicians? Fix the feed!"
The screen cleared.
In crystal-clear 4K resolution, the video from the pool began to play. The entire room gasped as they watched Vivian deliberately kick off the stroller lock, shove the baby into six feet of water, and stand there smiling coldly as the infant sank.
"What is this?!" Vivian shrieked, jumping out of her chair, her veil falling back to reveal her panicked, horror-stricken face. "Turn it off! Turn it off right now!"
Before the security team could react, the audio over the speakers changed. A crisp, recorded phone call filled the room—a call picked up by Grace's hidden nursery mirror server just three days prior:
“Is the aconitine ready?” Julian’s distinct voice echoed through the speakers, loud and clear.
“Yes,” Vivian’s recorded voice replied smoothly. “The same dose we used on Evelyn. Once the baby is gone and Adrian is arrested for it, the board will have no choice but to hand you the voting rights. Just make sure my offshore cut is twenty percent.”
“Don't worry, Vivian. Once Adrian is in prison, he won't survive his first month in custody anyway.”
The auditorium exploded into pure bedlam. Reporters dropped their pads, cameramen rushed forward, and high-society board members gasped in absolute horror.
Julian’s face turned as pale as death. He turned to run off the side of the stage, but the heavy double doors at the back of the auditorium slammed open.
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A dozen federal agents, flanked by state police officers, strode down the center aisle, weapons drawn.
"Julian Harrington! Vivian Cross!" the lead agent shouted. "Do not move! You are under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder, federal treason, and the homicide of Evelyn Harrington!"
