Chapter 9 - The Screen Speaks
A collective gasp echoed across the ballroom.
Below the official legal header, the screen transitioned automatically to an illuminated ledger: the Delaware shell company, the forged signature comparing my real handwriting to Trent's crude tracing, and the exact money-laundering transfers directly into Dale and Evelyn Sterling's private accounts.
Trent froze. His glass of Scotch slipped from his fingers, shattering on the polished stage floor, splashing alcohol over his patent-leather shoes.
"What is this?" he stammered, frantically waving his arms at the audiovisual booth. "Turn that off! Cut the feed! Cut the feed right now!"
The screen didn't cut. Instead, a live audio recording began playing through the ballroom's surround-sound speakers. It was Brielle's trembling voice from her sworn deposition:
*"Trent told me he was moving the money out of Laurel's reach before the divorce. He told me he forged her authorization on the commercial mortgage because she was too stupid to check the portfolio audits..."*
The room erupted into total chaos. Investors backed away from the stage as if Trent were radioactive. Venture capitalists pulled out their phones, frantically calling their legal teams.
Evelyn let out a high-pitched scream from the VIP table, knocking over a champagne tower that crashed to the floor in a cascade of crystal and foam. Dale grabbed his chest, staggering backward into a waiter.
From the double doors at the rear of the ballroom, I walked in.
I was wearing an emerald silk gown, flanked by Elena Vance and two plainclothes investigators from the New York Financial Crimes Task Force. The crowd parted like the Red Sea as I walked down the center aisle toward the stage.
Trent looked down at me from the podium, his face bone-white, his chest heaving with terrified, ragged breaths.
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"Laurel..." he wheezed, his voice carrying over the dead-silent room. "Laurel, please... don't do this here..."
"You chose the audience, Trent," I said, my voice clear and calm, echoing without the need for a microphone. "I merely provided the facts."
