Chapter 2 - The Illusions Fall
The violins stopped abruptly, producing a dreadful screech.
Graham marched forward, his face flushed with sudden anger. "Marcus! You were fired! How dare you interrupt my wedding? I'll have you arrested for trespassing!"
Marcus simply adjusted his cuffs. "You don't own this hotel, Graham. You never did."
"My father-in-law does!" Graham yelled, gesturing to Richard Ardell, Savannah's father, who was storming down from the VIP tables.
"Wrong again," a sharp, female voice echoed from the shattered doorway.
In walked Evelyn Cross. The most ruthless corporate attorney on the Eastern Seaboard. She was carrying a thick leather briefcase and a smile sharp enough to cut glass.
"The Ardell family leased this property," Evelyn announced, her voice ringing clear over the murmurs of the elite crowd. "The actual deed to the St. Aurelia Hotel was quietly purchased six months ago by a shell company. A shell company that is wholly owned by the woman you just assaulted."
Evelyn pointed a manicured finger directly at me.
The ballroom erupted into chaos.
Savannah dropped her champagne glass. It shattered on the marble, splashing her $50,000 Vera Wang gown. "Graham, what is she talking about? Who is that woman?"
"Lies!" Victoria shrieked, pointing at my limp body. "That crippled beggar has nothing! Graham took everything in the divorce! She couldn't even afford her own medical bills!"
I couldn't speak, but inside, I was roaring with laughter.
Graham hadn't taken anything. I let him think he did. When I was lying in that hospital bed, trapped inside my own failing body, I heard him whispering to his lawyers. I heard him laughing about how easy it was going to be to drain my accounts because my brain was "fried."
But my brain wasn't fried. It was perfectly, brilliantly intact.
Before the stroke, I was the shadow CEO of Whitaker Industries. Graham was just the handsome face I put on the magazine covers. He didn't know the passwords, the offshore accounts, or the loyalty of the board members who secretly despised him.
For eighteen months, I had been communicating with Evelyn and Marcus through a specialized eye-tracking tablet hidden in my room.
While Graham was planning his billion-dollar wedding to the Ardell heiress, I was systematically buying up every single debt the Ardell family owed.
May you like
"Evelyn," Marcus said softly, glancing at the burns on my lap. "She assaulted the boss."
Evelyn's eyes darkened. "I see that. Let the games begin."
