Chapter 3 - Phase Two ActivatedEvelyn turned her cold glare back to me, her hand tightening around her champagne flute. "What game are you playing, Daniel? If you embarrass this family in front of the London investors, I will have the board remove you as CEO by morning."
"The board won't be voting on my position, Mother," I said, my voice dropping into a low, icy register. "They'll be voting on yours."
Marcus and the federal investigators walked straight toward us, their steps echoing loudly on the polished marble floor. The surrounding conversation in the ballroom began to die down, the guests turning to watch the sudden intrusion.
"Evelyn Ashford?" the lead investigator, Agent Carter, asked, pulling a leather wallet from his jacket and displaying his badge. "Federal Bureau of Investigation. We have a warrant to seize all corporate records and communication logs of Ashford Holdings, effective immediately."
"This is absurd!" Evelyn hissed, her voice rising to a sharp, commanding pitch. "My lawyers will have you thrown out of this building in five minutes! On what grounds are you disrupting a private corporate event?"
"On the grounds of corporate fraud, kidnapping, and conspiracy to commit murder," Agent Carter replied calmly.
The ballroom fell into a suffocating, dead silence. The London investors stared in absolute shock, their wineglasses frozen halfway to their mouths.
"This is a ridiculous fabrication!" Evelyn laughed, her eyes darting frantically around the room, looking for her private security team. "My son is suffering from severe grief-induced paranoia. He’s been fabricating these stories for months!"
"I'm not the one fabricating stories, Mother," I said, pulling my secure phone from my pocket and connecting it to the ballroom’s massive presentation screen on the stage behind us.
I pressed a button. The screen flickered to life, and the image that appeared made the entire room gasp in horror.
It was a live, high-definition video feed from the penthouse suite. Lena sat on the sofa, holding our daughter, Grace, in her arms. Her hacked hair, her bruised cheek, and her worn, dirty clothes were displayed for the entire high-society crowd to see.
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"Lena..." Evelyn whispered, her face instantly draining of all color, her diamond necklace shaking against her collarbone.
"She’s alive, Mother," I said, stepping closer to her, letting her feel the absolute coldness of my wrath. "And she’s spent the last two hours giving her official statement to the federal prosecutors."
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