Chapter 6 - The Fall of the Ice Queen
The ballroom went deathly silent.
On the massive screen, the crisp, undeniable security footage from my kitchen played. It was from the day Maya was arrested.
The guests gasped as the video showed Vivian walking into the kitchen, looking around to ensure she was alone. The footage was crystal clear. It showed her pulling the velvet jewelry box from her pocket, taking out her grandmother's antique necklaces, and stuffing them deep into Maya’s backpack.
“What is this?!” Vivian shrieked from the stage, her voice cracking in panic. “Turn it off! David, turn it off right now!”
The technician ignored her. The video abruptly cut to a new scene.
This time, the camera angle was from my study. The hidden cameras my investigators had installed caught everything. The audio pumped through the massive concert speakers, filling the room with Vivian’s own vicious words.
“He’s taking too long to die, Marcus,” Vivian’s voice echoed across the silent, horrified crowd. The video showed her pouring arsenic powder into a coffee thermos. “The poison isn’t fast enough. We need him incapacitated by Friday so you can force the power of attorney.”
Marcus Vance, who was standing near the caviar station, dropped his whiskey glass. It shattered against the marble floor, the sound echoing like a gunshot.
The crowd erupted into chaos. Women screamed. Men backed away from Marcus. The elite socialites who had just been kissing Vivian’s cheeks were now staring at her like she was a demon crawling out of hell.
“And what about the brats?” Marcus’s voice boomed from the speakers.
“The twins? Send them to boarding school in Switzerland once he’s dead,” Vivian’s recorded voice sneered dismissively. “I never wanted the little rats anyway. I only had them to secure the marriage. If they cry about it, I’ll lock them in the basement again.”
“NO!” Vivian screamed, scrambling off the stage. Her perfect hair was wild, her makeup smudged from sweat. She looked frantically around the room, realizing she was surrounded by a wall of horrified faces. She spotted me standing calmly by the staircase.
“David! It’s a deepfake! It’s AI!” she shrieked, running toward me. “Somebody hacked the system! You have to believe me!”
I didn't move. I just looked at her, my expression completely hollow.
“Ethan told me about the basement, Vivian,” I said, my voice cutting through the noise of the panicking crowd. “He told me about the bruises. He told me everything.”
Vivian stopped dead, the color draining entirely from her face. The mask completely shattered, revealing the desperate, cornered animal underneath. She lunged forward, raising her hands to claw at my face. “You bastard! I gave you my youth! I deserve this empire!”
Before she could reach me, the heavy oak doors of the ballroom burst open.
A dozen uniformed police officers swarmed into the room, led by the Chief of Police.
“Vivian Hale,” the Chief barked, pulling out a pair of heavy steel handcuffs. “You are under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder, embezzlement, felony child abuse, and filing a false police report.”
Two officers grabbed Vivian by the arms. She fought like a rabid dog, screaming obscenities, kicking her designer heels into the shins of the cops. Her emerald gown ripped at the seam. The elegant, flawless socialite was gone, replaced by a screaming, thrashing criminal.
Across the room, Marcus tried to slip out through the terrace doors, but three officers tackled him into a table of champagne flutes, cuffing him roughly against the marble floor.
The flashbulbs of the paparazzi—who had been invited to cover a charity event—were now going off like strobe lights, capturing every second of Vivian’s humiliating, violent arrest. Her ruin wasn't just private. It was going to be on the front page of every newspaper in the country.
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As they dragged her out the front doors, she looked back at me one last time, her eyes filled with venomous hatred.
I didn't smile. I didn't gloat. I just turned my back on her and walked away.
