Chapter 7 - Reclaiming the Throne
Right as Chloe screamed, the massive LED screen meant to play the sweet montage of the newlyweds suddenly lit up.
No romantic music. No affectionate silhouettes.
On the screen appeared crystal-clear German commercial contracts, accompanied by eye-catching English translations. Right after were complex offshore account cash flow diagrams. The direction of every sum of money was marked with a red arrow, ultimately pointing to an offshore account under Julian Hayes's name.
Irrefutable evidence.
“Distinguished guests, shareholders,” my calm voice echoed through the microphone, breaking the suffocating silence. “What you are looking at is a portion of the evidence showing how, over the past five years, Mr. Julian Hayes exploited my trust. Through shell companies, forged commercial contracts, and various other means, he systematically transferred the corporate assets left by my parents into his personal name.”
The images on the screen switched, turning into several explicit emails written in English. The sender was Julian; the recipients were several different foreign women’s names. The content was raw and intimate, spanning many years.
“Of course, CEO Hayes’s private life is also remarkably colorful, definitely not limited to just one 'true love' like Ms. Chloe here.”
I calmly narrated each piece of evidence, like a prosecutor presenting a case in court.
“He used the unlimited power of attorney I signed back then to support his career, hollowing out the lifeblood of the Vance family, solely to satisfy his personal greed and provide for his so-called 'soulmates.'”
The faces of the shareholders in the audience changed from initial shock to sheer fury. The foreign business partners who had been hoodwinked turned green with anger.
“Turn it off! Turn it off now!” Julian finally snapped out of his extreme terror. He roared, trying to get the staff to cut the screen.
But it was too late. The reporters at the scene, like sharks smelling blood, snapped photos frantically. The camera flashes illuminated Julian’s pale face, leaving him nowhere to hide.
Chloe looked at the disgusting emails on the screen, especially the sweet nothings Julian said to other women that were even sweeter than what he said to her, and she completely broke down.
“Julian Hayes! You’re a liar! You conned me!” She screamed hysterically, lunging forward to hit and curse him, entirely stripping away her previous pitiful, weak facade.
Julian was scratched and battered by her, looking utterly pathetic. He shoved Chloe away violently, pointed at me on the stage, his lips trembling, so angry he couldn't form a word, his body swaying as if about to collapse.
The entire wedding devolved into a pot of chaotic porridge. The gasps of the guests, the rapid-fire questions of the reporters, Chloe’s wailing, the angry curses of the shareholders...
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The place that once symbolized love and glory had, in an instant, become the execution ground for Julian Hayes.
And I, the person standing at the center of this storm, merely watched it all coldly. This was the ending he deserved.
