Chapter 3 - The Ledger of Sins
Before Jonathan could find his voice, my attorney, Evelyn Vance—no relation to Clara, but a bulldog of a corporate litigator—stepped forward from the side aisle. She carried a thick, leather-bound binder stamped with federal seals.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Evelyn announced, her voice echoing off the high vaulted ceilings. “Please remain seated. You are currently attending a ceremony funded entirely by embezzlement, corporate identity theft, and systemic fraud.”
Murmurs erupted through the pews. Heads whipped back and forth between the altar and the back rows, where two federal marshals had quietly blocked the exit doors.
Jonathan lunged forward, his charm finally snapping under the immense pressure. “This is a disturbance! Security! Remove these people immediately—this is my wedding!”
“Your wedding to a ghost, Jonathan?” Evelyn countered sharply, opening the binder to a heavily highlighted page. “Let’s talk about Duncan Apex Holdings. You didn't build this empire with venture capital. You forged Clara Vance’s digital signature on asset transfer documents while she was incapacitated in a private medical facility. When you needed liquidity to buy out your primary competitors, you took out massive commercial loans using my client’s name—and when you realized the government was beginning to look closely at those shell companies, you engineered a fresh marriage to a forensic accountant, intending to make her the scapegoat for your financial collapse.”
Evelyn paused, looking directly at the stunned crowd of elites, politicians, and business partners.
“Every single asset you see attached to Duncan Apex Holdings—the penthouses, the luxury fleets, the offshore accounts in the Caymans—does not belong to Jonathan Duncan. It belongs to the rightful heirs, and every contract signed under duress or false pretenses is legally void.”
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Jonathan spun around to face me, his eyes wide with a manic, desperate fury. He grabbed my shoulders, shaking me violently in front of four hundred witnesses.
“You knew,” he hissed, spittle flying from his lips. “You knew all along, didn't you? You little bitch—you played me!”
