Part 3: The Crimson Verdict
Part 3: The Crimson Verdict
The screen changed.
This time, it was a video inside a dimly lit penthouse downtown. The timestamp was from just three nights ago—while I was supposedly crying myself to sleep in my wheelchair.
The camera showed Vanessa. She wasn't crying.
She was wearing a revealing silver dress, sitting on the lap of my cousin Marcus, laughing as they toasted with expensive cognac.
"The cripple doesn't suspect a thing," Vanessa's voice echoed clearly from the ballroom speakers. "Once the board votes him out next week, Marcus will take over as CEO. We'll transfer the remaining real estate assets to our shell company in Panama, and Leo can spend the rest of his pathetic life in a state-funded nursing home."
The ballroom went so silent you could hear the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner.
Vanessa’s mother covered her face in shame. Marcus, who had been hiding near the bar, tried to blend into the crowd, but two more security guards immediately pinned him against the wall, cuffing his hands behind his back.
"Marcus," I called out, not even looking back at him. "Your father built this estate. It's a shame you'll be spending the next twenty years in a federal prison for corporate fraud and attempted murder."
"Leo, please! Don't do this to your own blood!" Marcus screamed as he was dragged out of the ballroom, his polished shoes scuffing against the marble.
Vanessa fell to her knees, right where Clara had been kneeling just moments before. The rich burgundy fabric of her expensive dress spread out around her like a pool of spilled wine.
"You can't do this to me," she sobbed, the heavy mascara running down her cheeks, ruining her perfect, glamorous face. "We've been together for four years! You can't just throw me out like trash!"
"You threw me out the moment you thought I couldn't provide for your vanity," I replied, looking down at her without an ounce of pity.
I reached down, took her hand, and brutally ripped the 5-carat diamond engagement ring off her finger. She gasped, clutching her bare hand to her chest.
"Get out of my house," I said. "Before I have the guards drag you out by your hair."
Vanessa looked around the room, desperate for someone, anyone, to help her. But the very friends who had laughed with her moments ago now turned their backs, refusing to make eye contact. They didn't want to be destroyed by association.
Clutching her ruined dress, Vanessa stood up and ran out of the ballroom, her mother scurrying quickly behind her like a frightened rat.
May you like
I turned back to the remaining guests. The atmosphere was thick with fear. Half of the people in this room had signed a petition to remove me from my own board of directors yesterday morning.
"As for the rest of you," I announced, raising my voice so every single board member could hear me. "The board meeting is officially moved to right now. And your resignations are already printed on my desk."
