Part 2: THE BILLIONAIRE’S HIDDEN HEIR

Vanessa backed away, her heels clicking frantically against the marble floor.

“Don't be ridiculous, Richard,” she stammered, her flawless complexion turning splotchy with panic. “Julian told me! Julian told me about the steering column!”

She turned to her fiancé, her eyes wide, silently begging him to play along.

Julian stared at her. He looked like a man waking up from a decade-long coma.

“I didn't even know Dad met with Liam,” Julian said, his voice hollow. “I never saw the police report. I didn't know about the watch until this exact second.”

Vanessa swallowed hard. “You... you must have forgotten, darling. We had so much wine that night you told me—”

“Lock the doors,” Richard commanded.

He didn't yell. He didn't even raise his hand. But the three men in black suits stationed at the ballroom exits immediately moved, pulling the heavy brass handles shut with a resounding, final click.

The guests murmured in fear, but no one dared move. You didn't walk out on Richard Moretti when he was conducting family business.

“Richard, you can't hold me here!” Vanessa shrieked, clutching her expensive purse to her chest. “This is a charity gala! There are politicians here! Judges!”

“Then they can witness a confession,” Richard said coldly.

I pulled Ava closer to my side, shielding her from the tension radiating through the room. But my brave little girl wasn't looking at Richard, or Julian, or even the guards.

She was staring intently at Vanessa’s purse.

Vanessa was clutching it so tightly that the clasp had popped open, revealing the silk lining inside.

“Mommy,” Ava whispered, tugging on my apron.

“Hush, sweetie,” I murmured, not wanting to draw Vanessa’s volatile attention.

“But Mommy,” Ava insisted, her small voice carrying surprisingly well in the quiet room. “That lady has the shiny bird.”

Everyone froze.

Richard looked down at Ava. “What shiny bird, little one?”

Ava pointed a tiny finger at Vanessa’s open purse. “The shiny bird the mean event lady was wearing when we got here.”

My eyes darted to Vanessa’s bag. Peeking out from beneath a compact mirror was a distinct, gaudy peacock brooch covered in fake emeralds.

I recognized it immediately.

“That belongs to Mrs. Higgins,” I said, my heart starting to pound. “The event coordinator who hired me for this catering job.”

Richard’s eyes narrowed. He looked at one of his guards. “Bring me Mrs. Higgins.”

A minute later, the coordinator was dragged out of the kitchen by her elbows. She was shaking violently, her eyes darting between Richard and Vanessa.

“I didn't do anything!” Mrs. Higgins cried.

“Why did you hire my daughter?” Richard asked, his tone deceptively polite.

Mrs. Higgins burst into tears. “I didn't know she was your daughter, Mr. Moretti! I swear! Miss Vanessa came to me two days ago. She gave me that peacock brooch—it’s real emeralds, sir, worth twenty thousand—and told me to hire the waitress named Sophia from the downtown diner.”

Answer one: The entire humiliation was orchestrated.

Open two: But why tonight? Why risk bringing me into the same room as my father if she had spent eight years keeping us apart?

“Why?” Richard asked, voicing my exact thought. He looked at Vanessa with absolute disgust. “You spent nearly a decade hiding her from me. Why bring her here tonight just to frame her for stealing my dead wife’s necklace?”

“Because the trust matures at midnight,” a smooth, familiar voice echoed from the back of the VIP crowd.

The guests parted like the Red Sea.

A man stepped forward. He was tall, impeccably dressed in a charcoal suit, with silver at his temples and eyes as cold as a frozen lake.

I stopped breathing.

It was Victor.

The man my father had arranged for me to marry eight years ago. The billionaire heir I had run away to escape.

Victor didn't look at Richard. He looked straight at me, his gaze softening for a fraction of a second before turning back to ice.

“Hello, Sophia,” Victor said quietly.

“Victor,” Richard warned. “This doesn't concern you.”

“It concerns me very much, Richard,” Victor replied smoothly, walking until he stood beside Julian. “You see, Vanessa didn't just want Sophia humiliated. She needed her publicly arrested for grand larceny in front of the city’s elite.”

Victor turned to the crowd.

“According to the Moretti family trust, if the eldest daughter is convicted of a felony, her fifty percent share automatically defaults to the male heir. Julian.” Victor smiled darkly at Vanessa. “And since Vanessa and Julian are signing their prenuptial agreement tomorrow morning, she needed Sophia’s money secured tonight.”

Vanessa’s face contorted into an ugly, cornered snarl. “You son of a bitch. We had a deal!”

Victor shook his head. “I told you I would help you locate her. I never said I would help you destroy her.”

Julian stared at his fiancée, absolute horror in his eyes. “You... you used my mother’s necklace to frame my sister for money?”

“Oh, grow up, Julian!” Vanessa snapped, dropping the act entirely. Her voice turned shrill and vicious. “You think you deserve that money? You’re weak! You’ve always been weak. Just like you were the night Liam died.”

My blood ran cold.

Victor reached into his pocket and pulled out a delicate, worn object.

It was my silver rosary. The one I had left on my pillow the night I ran away from Victor’s mansion.

He held it out to me. “I kept this, Sophia. Because I knew, eventually, you would need the truth.”