Chapter 41 - THE UNINVITED PATRIARCH
At that exact moment, the massive heavy oak doors at the back of the ballroom were thrown violently open.
A sharp gust of autumn wind swept through the hall, extinguishing several candelabras and sending a collective shiver through the assembled elite.
The sound that followed was unmistakable: the steady, rhythmic *click-thump, click-thump* of an ebony cane striking the polished parquet floor.
David Vance stepped out of the shadows, flanked by Helena on his right and Laurent on his left. Behind them, standing in rigid formation, were six federal marshals wearing tactical vests emblazoned with *UNITED STATES MARSHAL SERVICE*.
A woman in the third row dropped her champagne glass. The sound of shattering crystal was deafening in the dead silence that descended upon the room.
Evelyn froze. The smirk on her lips curdled into a grotesque grimace of pure, unadulterated horror. Her face drained of all color, turning the sickly pale gray of aged parchment. She gripped the wooden podium so hard her knuckles turned stark white.
"D... David?" she choked out, the microphone picking up the ragged, terrified whisper and broadcasting it across every speaker in the room.
Carter stumbled backward, tripping over the bottom step of the dais and sprawling ungracefully onto the polished floor. His champagne glass shattered against the hardwood, staining his expensive trousers. He stared at our father as if looking at a demon summoned straight from hell.
"No... no, this is impossible," Carter stammered, scrambling backward on his hands and knees. "You're dead! I signed the papers! We burned your body!"
"You burned an empty casket and an unfortunate soul who deserved far more honor than you will ever possess," David Vance boomed, his voice resounding through the high-vaulted ceiling with absolute authority.
He didn't limp like an invalid anymore. He walked with measured, commanding purpose down the center aisle, the crowd parting before him like the Red Sea. Guests recoiled, whispering in panicked shock, clutching their jewelry and edging toward the exits—only to find the double doors blocked by federal officers.
May you like
David stopped at the foot of the stage, towering over Carter, who remained huddled on the floor like a cornered animal.
"Stand up, Carter," David ordered with profound disgust. "At least have the decency to face the father you tried to poison."
