Chapter 567
Chapter 567:
“Am I?” Skye glanced up at the mezzanine.
In the shadows of the balcony, Alistair Thorne stood watching. He raised a glass to her.
And near the kitchen service entrance, a waiter with a sling hidden under a loose jacket was pouring wine. Liam caught her eye for a fraction of a second, his hand hovering near his waist where a gun was concealed.
“I brought gifts,” Skye said.
“I don’t want your charity,” Lucian sneered.
“Oh, it’s not for you,” Skye said. She turned to the crowd.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” Her voice rang out. “Thank you for coming. I know you’re all expecting a wedding toast. But I thought we should start with a little… home movie p>
She snapped her fingers.
The lights in the ballroom went out.
Pitch-blackness swallowed the room. Screams of surprise erupted.
Then, the massive screen behind the stage flickered to life.
The screen didn’t show a romantic montage of Lucian and Victoria.
It showed a spreadsheet.
But not just any spreadsheet. It was the Ledger of Sins. Lines of red text scrolled rapidly.
Transfer: $5M to Judge Halloway – Case Dismissed.
Transfer: $10M to Cartel North – Shipment “Blue Velvet p>
Transfer: $500k to Beatrice Kensington – Research Grant (Neurotoxin p>
The crowd gasped. Names were named. People in the audience saw their own dirty laundry aired on a forty-foot screen.
“Turn it off!” Lucian roared, running toward the AV booth. “Cut the power p>
But the screen changed again.
A video appeared. It was Parker Hayes, sitting in his new office at Oracle Tower.
“Hi, Vic,” Parker waved from the screen. “Surprise. I’m not dead p>
Victoria let out a strangled shriek. She grabbed the podium for support. “It’s a deepfake! It’s AI p>
Your digital library on be.com
“And this is Dad’s will,” Parker continued in the video.
A document appeared, highlighting the clause that left everything to Parker.
“The one you hid in the meatloaf recipe folder. Really, Vic? Meatloaf p>
The banks have been notified, Parker’s voice-over boomed. “Your accounts are frozen, sis. You’re broke p>
Victoria collapsed. Her legs just gave out. She sat on the stage in a pile of expensive lace, wailing.
Lucian pulled a gun from his tuxedo jacket. The pretense of civility was gone.
“You,” he pointed the weapon at Skye. “You did this p>
The crowd panicked. Guests screamed and scrambled for the exits, knocking over tables and spilling caviar. It was a stampede of diamonds and fear.
“Stop!” Alistair’s voice thundered from the balcony.
He vaulted over the railing, landing on a table and drawing his own weapon. “Drop it, Lucian p>
Liam shed his waiter’s jacket and stepped out from the shadows, his gun trained on Lucian’s head.
“Two against one,” Liam shouted. “Do the math, Graves p>