Chapter 6 - The Unraveling of Allison
By noon, the news of Arthur Hayes’s forced resignation and the Aegis Capital takeover had sent shockwaves through the Boston financial district. But while the business world was analyzing balance sheets, the high-society world was feasting on the gory, dramatic demise of Allison Hayes.
I was sitting in the executive suite of Hayes Industries—now officially rebranded under the Aegis umbrella—reviewing the operational restructuring with Nicholas, when Marcus knocked on the door.
"Mrs. Sterling," Marcus said, stepping in with an iPad in his hand. "You need to see this. Your sister has gone live on social media from the lobby of the Four Seasons."
Nicholas frowned, glancing up from his financial documents. "Has security removed her?"
"She isn't on our property, sir. She’s at the Four Seasons lounge, surrounded by lifestyle influencers and two freelance paparazzi. She’s making a scene."
I took the iPad from Marcus’s hand.
On the screen, Allison looked completely unhinged.
Her expensive bridal blowout was a tangled mess, her eyes were swollen and red, and she was clutching a dirty martini in the middle of a crowded restaurant. Over two hundred thousand people were watching the stream live.
*"She ruined my life!"* Allison was sobbing into the camera, waving her diamond-encrusted phone erratically. *"Meredith has always been sick! She’s mentally unstable! She seduced Nicholas Sterling because she knew he was Julian’s business partner! She plotted this whole thing to destroy my wedding day! My father is in the hospital with heart palpitations because of her! She stole my family's company!"*
The comments on the stream were flying by at lightning speed:
—*Is this the girl whose husband dumped her the morning after the wedding?*
—*Wait, didn't she have a waiter dump wine on her sister first?*
—*Look at her, she’s completely wasted at noon.*
—*She sounds like an entitled sociopath.*
"She really has no instinct for survival, does she?" Nicholas murmured, standing behind my chair and resting a hand on my shoulder.
"She’s never had to survive," I said, handing the tablet back to Marcus. "She’s had everything handed to her on a silver platter her entire life. When the platter disappears, she doesn't know how to do anything except scream."
"Do you want me to crush this?" Nicholas asked. His tone was casual, as if he were asking if I wanted another cup of coffee, but I knew what 'crushing' meant in Nicholas’s world. It meant five cease-and-desist orders, an injunction, and complete media erasure within thirty minutes.
"No," I said, a slow, cold smile touching my lips. "Don't crush it. Expose it."
"Marcus," Nicholas said, understanding immediately. "Release the high-definition security footage from the Copley ballroom."
"Which section, Mr. Sterling?"
"All of it," I said. "Start with the service corridor twenty minutes before the ceremony. The part where Allison hands an envelope of cash to the banquet server."
Marcus grinned. "Already queued up, ma'am. Our digital media team has it enhanced in 4K."
"Release it to every major news outlet and tag Allison’s personal accounts," I said. "Let the internet see the blushing bride at work."
It took less than fifteen minutes.
The footage hit Twitter, TikTok, and Instagram simultaneously.
The video was crystal-clear. It showed Allison in her wedding gown, cornering the young waiter near the kitchen doors. The audio, captured perfectly by the corridor's security microphone, was unmistakable:
*"When you walk by Table Nineteen, you trip. All twelve glasses. Directly over her head. If a single drop misses her face, you don't get the second envelope. Do you understand me? Make her look like the disgusting pig she is."*
The internet’s reaction was instantaneous and savage.
Within sixty seconds, Allison’s live stream was flooded with thousands of comments quoting her own words back to her:
—*“MAKE HER LOOK LIKE A DISGUSTING PIG”? YOU PSYCHO!*
—*BRIBING A WAITER WITH CASH IN 4K QUALITY!*
—*JULIAN DODGED A LITERAL NUCLEAR MISSILE!*
—*LOCK HER UP!*
On the live feed, we watched in real-time as Allison read the incoming comments. Her face went completely, utterly white. The glass of martini slipped from her fingers, shattering on the Four Seasons floor—just like the wine glasses had shattered at my feet twenty-four hours earlier.
Two hotel managers immediately stepped into the frame, flanked by private security.
*"Miss Hayes,"* one of the managers said coldly, his voice picked up by her phone's microphone. *"You are causing a disturbance and your card has been declined by our front desk. We must ask you to leave the premises immediately, or we will have you arrested for trespassing."*
Allison looked at the camera with wide, terrified eyes, realizing that every single person in the city now knew exactly what she was.
May you like
She dropped the phone. The screen cracked, and the feed went black.
***
