Chapter 3 - The Audit Begins
Before my father could formulate another pathetic plea or summon the last dregs of his bullying authority, Daniel stepped up beside me, placing a warm, heavy hand on the small of my back. The possessive, protective weight of his touch sent a jolt of pure electric satisfaction straight through my spine.
"There's no need for a private study, Richard," Daniel said, his voice dropping an octave into a tone that brooked zero argument. He gestured to the corporate attorney, who flipped open the leather briefcase and withdrew a thick stack of heavy bond paper tied with red ribbon. "In fact, we thought it best to handle family business in front of your most esteemed guests, since you’ve always been so terribly fond of public performance."
The room was so quiet you could hear the distant hum of the catering staff whispering in the kitchen hallway. Dozens of wealthy investors, local politicians, and high-society socialites who had spent the last hour laughing at my humiliation were now desperately trying to shrink into their designer velvet chairs, terrified that eye contact with Daniel Reyes would put them on his liquidation list.
"As of 4:00 PM today," Daniel continued, pacing slowly across the polished hardwood floor like a panther inspecting its cage, "Reyes Capital has executed a complete forensic audit of Sterling Manufacturing and its associated shell accounts. It turns out your patriarchal empire wasn't quite as solvent as your annual shareholder reports suggested, Richard."
My father stumbled back a half-step, nearly tripping over the tiered wedding cake behind him. "That's... that's corporate espionage! You can't just—my accountants—"
"Your accountants resigned yesterday afternoon once they realized they were facing federal indictments for wire fraud and tax evasion," the attorney interjected smoothly, stepping forward to hand a single sheet of heavy cream paper directly to Julian Vance's bewildered father, the patriarch of the Vance family. "Mr. Vance, you might want to look at page four. Your son's bride's family used uncollateralized loans backed by forged inventory ledgers from your own warehouses to finance this very wedding."
Julian’s father snatched the paper, his eyes scanning the lines before his face turned a violent, apoplectic purple. He snapped his head toward my father, his voice a guttural roar. "Richard! You used my warehouses as phantom collateral for a sham wedding?!"
"It's not... it's a temporary liquidity bridge!" my father shrieked, abandoning all pretense of dignity as he lunged forward, his hands gripping the edge of the stage. He looked like a cornered rat, his hair disheveled, sweat beading heavily on his forehead. "We were going to merge with Vance Holdings after the wedding! The debt would have been absorbed!"
"Not anymore," Daniel said coldly. He turned his head slightly, looking down at me with a softness that contrasted violently with the icy death glare he directed at the stage. "My wife doesn't like sharing assets with fraudsters, Richard. And she certainly doesn't appreciate wet dresses."
Allison let out a feral screech of pure rage and disbelief, abandoning her bridal composure entirely. She ripped off her heavy diamond-encrusted tiara, hurling it straight at my head. It clattered uselessly against the toe of my Christian Louboutin pump, rolling away across the marble floor.
"You planned this!" Allison shrieked, pointing a manicured, trembling finger straight into my face, tears carving muddy tracks through her expensive makeup. "You pathetic, jealous bitch! You sat in the shadows for three years, playing the victim, letting us step on you, just so you could orchestrate this... this execution?!"
I didn't blink. I didn't flinch. I let a slow, terrifyingly calm smile touch the corners of my blood-red lips.
"No, Allison," I said softly, stepping closer to the stage so that only she and our father could hear the venom in my tone. "I didn't plan for you to step on me. I planned for you to get comfortable at the top of a mountain built on sand. Because the higher you climb, the harder you fall when someone kicks out the props."
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Before Allison could lunge off the stage at me, two of Daniel’s security guards stepped smoothly into her path, their massive shoulders blocking her entirely.
"Take them out," Daniel instructed quietly, his voice carrying the effortless authority of a king clearing the throne room. "The venue lease expired at 9:00 PM, and the new owners have scheduled immediate demolition renovations for the east wing."
