Chapter 5 - THE PANIC IN THE BALLROOMThe polite society gala dissolved into absolute, chaotic panic within three seconds.
Several wealthy socialites near the back screamed and shoved their chairs backward. Two local judges at table two stood up so fast they knocked their wine glasses over, staring at Richard and Arthur with sudden, horrified realization. The veneer of elite Charleston aristocracy cracked wide open, revealing the rot underneath.
"Richard!" Eleanor finally shrieked, stumbling up from her seat and rushing toward the stage. "Tell them she's lying! Tell everyone she's an unstable impostor trying to destroy our family!"
I turned my gaze toward my mother, remembering every holiday dinner where I was treated like an invisible ornament, every time she whispered that I was a disappointment because I chose a uniform over a society marriage.
"Hello, Mother," I said softly. "Did you miss me? Or were you too busy spending the down-payment on this mansion?"
Richard stumbled forward, his hands raised defensively, sweat pouring down his forehead. "Maren... please. Let's not make a scene. We can talk about this in the study. Just... put the drive down. We're family."
"Family?" I stepped closer to him, the height difference disappearing beneath the sheer weight of my presence. "Six months ago, when you got the casualty report, you didn't mourn. You opened a champagne bottle and started drafting foundation bylaws to shield your illicit shipping accounts from federal seizure."
Before Richard could answer, the heavy double doors of the ballroom swung open with a loud bang.
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It wasn't catering staff.
Four armed Federal Marshals, accompanied by two Department of Defense investigators in dark suits, marched into the grand hall. Their heavy boots echoed rhythmically against the marble floor, cutting straight through the murmurs of the terrified guests.
