Chapter 4 - Unraveling the Web
The room descended into utter chaos.
Guests began whispering frantically, pulling out their phones, taking photos and videos of the stage. Society reporters who had been invited to cover the grand charity event were now aggressively typing on their tablets, smelling the biggest scandal of the decade.
"Maren, put that away!" Julian finally found his voice, stepping forward with his fists clenched. "You're ruining everything! Do you have any idea how hard we worked to set up this foundation?!"
I turned my head toward my brother. "How hard you worked? You sat in air-conditioned offices while I was missing in action, Julian. You didn't even file a request with the State Department to search for my body!"
"Because the military said you were gone!" Julian yelled back, his composure completely falling apart. "The rescue team said the wreckage was burned beyond recognition! We had to move on!"
"You moved on in three weeks," I said, my voice dangerously low. "That’s how fast you filed the probate papers to declare me legally dead."
Eleanor rushed to my side, her hands clasped together in a desperate plea. "Maren, sweetheart, please! Think of our family's reputation! We did this for you! The foundation—"
"The foundation is a tax shelter," I interrupted, staring directly into her eyes. "I spoke to my commander before I came here. Vance Defense funneled three million dollars into this foundation to buy Dad’s silence. Because Dad owned fifteen percent of the logistics company that supplied the faulty helicopter parts that crashed my unit!"
A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the stage.
David stared at me, his eyes wide with absolute horror. He hadn't known I had connected the dots. He thought I was just an angry daughter returning from the war. He didn't realize that Captain Maren Vale was an intelligence officer trained to track money trails through bloody battlefields.
"You... you knew?" David whispered, his voice trembling.
"I didn't know when I crashed," I said, stepping closer to him until our faces were inches apart. "I thought it was just bad luck. But while I was hiding in the caves, I had plenty of time to review our flight logs and supplier manifests. Your signature is on the approval safety waiver, Dad. You signed off on cheap, refurbished rotor blades for my squadron so you could collect a two-million-dollar kickback from Vance Defense."
David took a staggered step back, hitting the podium. "I... I didn't know you were on that specific transport, Maren! It was just business! I didn't know!"
"You risked soldiers' lives for money!" I roared, the built-up rage of six months finally exploding from my chest. "And when it killed your own daughter, you didn't mourn! You threw a party!"
The crowd gasped in utter horror. Guests began backing away toward the doors, looking at David Vale as if he were a monster.
"Guards!" David screamed, his face contorted in sheer desperation. "Get her out of here! Drag her out!"
Two heavy security guards hired for the event stepped onto the stage, approaching me cautiously.
I didn't even flinch. I assumed a defensive stance, blade held low, my eyes locking onto the lead guard.
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"Guys," the lead guard whispered, looking at my scar, my boots, and the lethal confidence in my posture. "She's an active-duty Special Operations captain. I make twenty bucks an hour. I'm not touching her."
Both guards put their hands up and stepped off the stage.
