Chapter 7 - The Keynote Illusions
The grand ballroom of the resort was a spectacle of modern luxury. High ceilings were bathed in sleek blue and violet uplighting, and massive LED screens flanking the main stage displayed the glowing logo of Landon’s venture: *Vance Horizon Technologies: Powering Tomorrow.*
Over two hundred elite investors, venture capitalists, and industry journalists sat in plush velvet chairs, sipping champagne while waiting for the keynote address. Landon stood backstage in the shadows, his hair hastily recombed, straightening his silk tie with trembling hands. I could see the sweat glistening on his forehead even from the back entrance of the auditorium.
Beside me, Sloane wore a floor-length tailored emerald jumpsuit that commanded attention the instant we stepped into the room. Behind us, Martin Vance held a thick manila folder bearing the official seal of the state supreme court, accompanied by two armed county deputies who waited discreetly by the sound booth.
The master of ceremonies took the podium.
"Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished colleagues, please join me in welcoming the founder and chief visionary of Vance Horizon Technologies, Mr. Landon Vance!"
The room erupted into polite, enthusiastic applause. Landon forced a broad, charismatic smile onto his face, walking onto the stage with an exaggerated spring in his step. He adjusted the lapel microphone and raised his hands in a practiced gesture of visionary modesty.
"Thank you," Landon projected into the mic, his rich baritone echoing through the state-of-the-art sound system. "When we look at the future of renewable energy, we don't just see technology. We see integrity. We see legacy. We see an unbroken commitment to truth and transparent stewardship."
From the center aisle, Sloane and I began our walk forward.
Our heels clicked in perfect, rhythmic synchronization against the polished hardwood floor between the rows of seated investors. The sound was quiet at first, but as heads began to turn, a low murmur rippled across the room.
"Landon's voice faltered slightly as his gaze swept across the crowd and locked onto us. He stammered over his next word. "And... and that integrity starts with—"
"With forging your wife's signature on a half-million-dollar credit facility?" Sloane’s voice, clear and amplified by a wireless handheld microphone Martin had handed her from the sound board, sliced through the auditorium like a razor.
The applause died instantly. The room plunged into stunned silence.
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Landon’s eyes went wide with pure terror. "Sloane? What is the meaning of this? Security! Escort these individuals out! This is a closed private briefing!"
"No, Mr. Vance," I said, speaking into a second microphone as I reached the foot of the stage, looking up at my husband before the entire room. "This is an open public audit."
