“Sir, are you hiring a housekeeper? I can clean, cook, anything. Please… my little girl hasn’t eaten.”

The annual Vance Enterprises Gala was the premier social event of the year, held in the grand ballroom of the city’s most prestigious hotel—the very same hotel where Lena had walked up to me in the rain three weeks prior. Hundreds of high-society figures, politicians, and media moguls filled the hall under shimmering crystal chandeliers.

Evelyn Vance stood near the center stage, glowing in a silver evening gown, holding a champagne glass as she accepted praises from senators and corporate partners.

I walked into the ballroom wearing a tailored black tuxedo. Beside me walked Marcus, carrying a dark leather briefcase.

Evelyn spotted me and smiled smoothly, stepping away from her group to approach me. "Daniel. I was worried you wouldn't show. You look surprisingly composed tonight."

"I've never felt clearer, Mother," I said, my voice echoing slightly over the soft jazz playing in the background.

"Good. The press is here. I want a family photo on stage in ten minutes."

"There will be a photo, Mother," I replied with a calm, dangerous smile. "But not the one you're planning."

I nodded to Marcus. Within seconds, the main projection screens behind the orchestra—meant to display the company's annual financial achievements—flickered and cut to black.

The ambient music faded into confused murmurs as the screens lit up again. But instead of financial statistics, the screens displayed official medical documents, video logs from the Vermont facility, and sworn affidavits signed by Arthur Pendelton detailing three years of human confinement, falsified death certificates, and systematic embezzlement.

The entire ballroom fell into a dead, suffocating silence.

Evelyn’s glass slipped from her fingers, shattering on the polished marble floor. Her face drained of all color as she stared at the screen, her eyes widening in horrific realization.