Part 6: The trap springs open live.
Part 6: The trap springs open live.
The grand auditorium of Bennett Tower in Chicago was packed to absolute capacity.
Over fifty major news outlets, television crews, and camera operators filled the back of the room. The board of directors sat in a formidable semicircle at the front, led by Victoria’s oldest corporate ally, Board Director Harrison Vance.
Sitting in the front row of the audience, wearing a black veil and holding a lace handkerchief, was Victoria. She looked like a grieving, tragic mother, occasionally dabbing her eyes for the news cameras.
The chatter died down instantly as the heavy double doors at the back of the auditorium opened.
Ethan walked down the central aisle. He wore a crisp, dark suit, walking with an unshakeable, powerful stride. Walking right beside him, holding his hand proudly, was me. I wore a simple, elegant dark green dress that highlighted my pregnant silhouette.
Gasps and camera flashes erupted across the room as reporters leaned forward to capture the "manipulative country girl" in person.
Ethan took his place at the podium at the front of the stage. He adjusted the microphone, looking calmly across the sea of flashing cameras and stern corporate faces.
Director Vance stood up, clearing his throat loudly. "Ethan Bennett! You stand before this board accused of gross moral misconduct, public embarrassment of the Bennett legacy, and the cruel abandonment of your own mother. Do you have anything to say before we vote on your immediate termination?"
Victoria bowed her head, letting out a quiet, audible sob that was picked up by the room’s ambient microphones.
Ethan looked down at his mother with a look of pure, unadulterated pity.
"I have only one thing to say," Ethan announced, his voice booming clearly through every television speaker across the country. "My mother told the press yesterday that my wife, Lily, attacked her, threatened her baby, and stole my money."
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small black USB drive.
"What my mother forgot," Ethan continued, "is that every inch of the penthouse living room is covered by high-definition, audio-enabled security cameras connected to an encrypted cloud server."
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Victoria’s posture stiffened instantly. Her lace handkerchief froze halfway to her face.
Ethan plugged the drive into the podium console. "Let’s watch what really happened three months ago."
