Chapter 8
690words
Chester stood under the spotlight in a custom white suit. He held the hand of Anna Ziegler, the heiress of the Ziegler family. He looked like a prince, gentle, polished, and deeply in love.
"Thank you all for witnessing Anna and me get engaged," he said. "And thank you, Mr. Ziegler, for investing ten billion dollars into Grant Group."
His voice carried through the microphone, filling the ballroom and streaming live into homes across the country.
"Before I met Anna, I went through a painful marriage," he continued. "My ex-wife struggled with mental illness and lived trapped in her own delusions… It's sad, but I did everything I could."
A wave of sympathy swept through the crowd. Everyone murmured about how devoted he had been.
A cold, clear voice cut through the chatter. "Really? So, you did everything you could to sell your daughter on the black market, huh?"
The doors swung open, and I walked in, wearing the black dress Christian had lent me. My back was straight, my steps deliberate. I showed no sign of fear or madness. My makeup was flawless, like a widow attending a funeral.
Chester paled instantly, but he recovered quickly enough to plaster on a look of heart-wrenching grief. "Sophie? How did you escape from the hospital? Security! Stop her from hurting anyone! She needs to take her meds!"
A few security guards rushed at me, trying to grab me.
"Nobody moves!"
Christian stormed in through the side door with a team of black-clad bodyguards. In an instant, he took control of the scene. He toyed with a USB drive in his hand, smirking as he looked at Chester.
"It's a big day, Chester. Don't rush anyone out just yet. Your wife prepared a little gift for you."
Before Chester could do anything, Christian plugged the USB into the control panel. The massive LED screen behind them went black, then began playing a video.
Heavy rain, a black van, Chester's assistant watching as the man threw Dorothy into the trunk like she was nothing…
The assistant's voice played clearly. "Mr. Grant said to make this clean. Don't leave any loose ends here. Once she's out of the country, she'll have nothing to do with the Grant family, whether she lives or dies."
The ballroom went silent. Anna's smile froze, and she yanked her hand free from Chester's and looked at him like he was trash.
He panicked, shouting into the microphone, "That's fake! It's CGI—an AI face swap! This crazy woman would do anything just to get back at me!"
"And what about this, then?"
I pulled a freshly issued, expedited forensic report from my bag and slammed it into Chester's face. "This is the DNA test from the police. Sample One is a baby tooth dug out from the floorboard. Sample Two is your hair. The parent-child probability is 99.99%."
I stepped closer, my gaze as sharp as knives. "Or should I pull out Dottie's birth certificate copy from five years ago? Do you want me to call up the surgeon who delivered me by C-section to testify? Did you really think money could erase your daughter's existence?"
Chester trembled all over, cold sweat soaking his back. He desperately fought back. "That's just a tooth… Where's the so-called child? Maybe you killed her long ago and are trying to frame me up!"
At that moment, the ballroom doors opened again. A tiny figure in a red sweater appeared, timid and hesitant. She clutched a filthy little bunny toy and cried the moment she saw me, "Mommy!"
That cry shattered every lie Chester had built.
I dropped to my knees, arms wide. Dorothy barreled into my embrace like a little cannonball, trembling all over. I held her tightly, feeling her warm body against me, and finally let my tears fall.
"Is everyone seeing this now?"
I looked up, tear-streaked but resolute, as I faced the cameras. "This is the daughter he claimed never existed. This is the child he sent to human traffickers!"
Cameras flashed widely. Chester was finished.
