Chapter 42 - THE EVIDENCE ON THE SCREEN
"Poison?!" a voice shouted from the crowd of investors. Whispers exploded into open chaos.
"It's a lie! It's an impostor!" Evelyn shrieked into the microphone, her voice rising to a frantic, piercing pitch. "Don't listen to him! That man is a fraud! Security, shoot him! He is trespassing!"
The security guards looked at the federal marshals with their weapons drawn, immediately raised their hands, and stepped back against the wall, refusing to move an inch.
Laurent walked calmly over to the master AV console controlling the giant projector screens behind the stage. He plugged in the drive from my grandfather's pocket watch.
With a single keystroke, the lavish architectural renderings of *Sterling Crest* vanished.
In their place, high-definition security camera footage illuminated the massive screen. The date stamp read *April 12, 11:45 PM*—two weeks before my father’s supposed death.
The audio roared through the surround-sound system, crystal clear:
*On screen, Evelyn stood by David’s bedside table, carefully extracting a dark dropper bottle from her purse and squeezing six drops into his evening tonic.*
*"Make sure he drinks all of it, Carter,"* Evelyn’s voice boomed through the speakers. *"By Easter, the dosage will mimic advanced heart failure. The coroner has already been paid forty thousand to sign the waiver without an autopsy."*
A collective gasp swept through the crowd. Several prominent socialites turned away in sheer disgust. Investors began rapidly dialing their phones, desperately trying to pull their capital before the media caught wind of the spectacle.
"Turn it off! Turn it off right now!" Evelyn screamed, lunging at the projector screen as if she could tear down the digital truth with her bare fingernails.
Next came the bank ledgers. Columns of fraudulent transactions flashed across the screen: Carter’s offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands, the forged wire transfers sent from my startup's accounts to frame me for embezzlement, and the multimillion-dollar kickbacks promised by the Sterling Consortium.
"You thought you were so clever, didn't you, Mother?" I said, stepping onto the stage and taking the microphone from the podium. "You invited everyone here to celebrate my destruction. You wanted to parade your stolen wealth in front of the world."
I turned to face the terrified crowd. "Every contract signed under the Sterling development plan is void under federal racketeering statutes. Every asset transferred since my father's alleged death has been frozen by the Department of Justice."
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A sharp knock echoed through the room as the lead federal marshal stepped forward, unholstering a pair of gleaming steel handcuffs.
"Evelyn Vance. Carter Vance. By order of the United States District Court, you are under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder, wire fraud, securities manipulation, and grand larceny."
