Chapter 4 - The UnmaskingDominic surged to his feet, his chair screeching violently against the Persian rug. Standing at six-foot-two, he towered over me, his chest heaving with sudden, explosive rage.
"You think you've got a voice now, don't you?" Dominic hissed, stepping directly into my personal space, towering over me like a predator cornering its prey. "You think because I let you breathe in my house that you actually matter? Let me remind you who you are, Audrey. You are nothing. Without me, you're sleeping on a park bench."
He raised his hand again—the same right hand that had struck my face twenty minutes ago.
This time, I didn't flinch.
I didn't blink. I simply stared straight into his dilated, furious eyes, a cold, untouchable smile playing on my lips.
"Go ahead, Dominic," I whispered, my voice echoing clearly through the silent dining room. "Hit me again. Make sure the security camera embedded in the smoke detector catches every single angle this time."
Dominic’s hand stopped mid-air. His breath hitched.
For the first time all evening, the color drained entirely from his face. His eyes darted upward toward the smoke detector on the ceiling—a sleek, high-definition lens that hadn't been monitoring smoke for the last ninety days. It had been streaming live, encrypted video directly to the cloud servers of the Federal Bureau of Investigation's White-Collar Crime Division.
"What... what did you say?" Dominic choked out, his voice dropping an octave, the arrogance instantly evaporating into cold, paralyzing panic.
"I said," I replied smoothly, stepping back out of his reach and resting my hands calmly on the back of an empty chair, "the show is being recorded."
Victoria stood up so fast her chair tipped backward, crashing loudly onto the floor. Her aristocratic facade shattered into a million jagged pieces, revealing the desperate, cornered animal underneath. "Dominic, shut her up! What is she talking about?"
"She's talking about the envelopes," I said, pointing a steady finger down at the mahogany table.
Slowly, as if hypnotized by impending doom, Dominic looked down at his bowl. His trembling fingers reached out, lifted the heavy ceramic dish, and pulled out the black envelope.
With shaking hands, he tore the flap open and pulled out the laminated card.
His eyes scanned the QR code, then drifted down to the printed summary text below it:
Subject: Dominic Vance / Sterling Corp Embezzlement Dossier Total Misappropriated Funds: $14,250,000 Status: Transmitted to Federal Prosecutors, SEC Investigators, and All Major Shareholders. Action: Freezing of All Corporate and Personal Assets Effective Immediately.
Dominic’s knees buckled. He grabbed the edge of the mahogany table to steady himself, his face turning an alarming shade of pale gray.
"No," Dominic whispered, his voice cracking into a pathetic whine. "No, no, no. This... this isn't real. You're just a housewife! You don't know anything about finance! You couldn't have..."
"My father was Arthur Vance," I interrupted, my voice cutting through the room like a scalpel.
The name hit them like a physical blow. Victoria gasped, her hands flying to her mouth, her eyes wide with sudden, sickening realization.
May you like
"Arthur Vance..." Victoria breathed, the name tasting like ash on her tongue. "The... the forensic audit pioneer..."
"The very same," I smiled coldly. "And you invited his only daughter into your home, abused her, starved her of basic human dignity, and handed her the keys to your entire financial empire."
