Chapter 2 - The First Brick Falls
The ballroom erupted into murmurs as the top screen displayed a series of bank statements and encrypted offshore wire transfers.
Victoria’s confident posture shattered in an instant. Her eyes widened as she recognized the shell company names: Aegis Holdings, Blue Sky Offshore, Ardell Cayman Trust.
"Turn it off! Cut the power!" Victoria shrieked, pointing aggressively at the hotel staff. "Someone pull the plug!"
"Thirty seconds ago," the digitized voice continued smoothly over the sound system, "The Ardell Real Estate Empire was stripped of its primary liquidity. Four point two billion dollars in offshore accounts have been frozen under federal anti-money laundering warrants."
A loud ping sounded simultaneously from the phones of every high-society guest in the room. Notification after notification flooded the venue. Breaking news alerts from The Wall Street Journal, Bloomberg, and CNBC flashed across screens:
[BREAKING NEWS: ARDELL REAL ESTATE UNDER FEDERAL INVESTIGATION FOR BRIBING CITY OFFICIALS AND MASSIVE TAX FRAUD.]
"No... no, this is impossible!" Victoria gasped, clutching her diamond necklace as her phone rang relentlessly. She answered it with shaking hands. "What?!"
"Victoria!" her chief financial officer screamed through the speaker, so loud that nearby guests overheard every word. "Our credit lines were just revoked! The SEC has seized our main office! All trading on Ardell stock has been suspended! We’re bankrupt!"
Savannah dropped her champagne glass. The delicate crystal shattered on the marble floor, splashing against the hem of her designer dress. "Mom? What is he talking about? What's going on?!"
Graham went entirely pale. He turned sharply toward Eleanor, who remained seated in her wheelchair, her face completely composed despite the gravy soaking her dress.
"You..." Graham whispered, realization hitting him like a physical blow. "What did you do, Eleanor?"
Eleanor didn't answer with words. Instead, her right thumb tapped twice on the armrest.
The second screen flashed. This time, it displayed a video recording from a hidden camera inside Graham’s executive suite from eight months ago—the exact week Eleanor was laying in an ICU bed battling for her life after her stroke.
On the screen, Graham was seen laughing with Savannah, drinking scotch, and signing a document.
"Once Eleanor dies in the hospital, her family's trust fund automatically transfers to me," Graham’s recorded voice echoed clearly through the ballroom. "The stroke was the best thing that ever happened to my portfolio."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Former business partners stepped away from Graham as if he carried a contagious plague. The socialites who had just been smiling at him now stared with absolute disgust.
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"Turn it off!" Graham roared, lunging toward the stage. "It’s a fake! It’s AI!"
Before he could reach the AV booth, the grand double doors of the St. Aurelia Ballroom were slammed open by heavy hands.
