Chapter 6 - The Unmasking
Panic exploded through the Grand Ballroom.
Gasps of horror echoed from every corner of the room. The Mayor stepped back from the stage in absolute shock. The Chief of Police glared up at Cynthia, his eyes wide with disbelief.
"Turn it off! TURN IT OFF NOW!" Gerald screamed from the front table, knocking over his champagne glass as he lunged toward the technical booth.
"I'm trying! It's locked out!" the technician yelled back.
On the massive projection screens above the stage, documents began flashing in rapid succession: high-resolution scans of the Project Apex bank transfers, the internal memo ordering my disposal, and the forensic medical reports from St. Jude’s Emergency Unit dated seven years ago.
And then, a large photograph appeared on the center screen—a nineteen-year-old girl, bloody, bruised, and near death on a hospital bed, beside a current photograph of Alexis Vance.
I walked slowly down the central red carpet aisle, the crowd parting before me like the Red Sea.
"You don't need to turn it off, Gerald," I said, my voice cutting through the panic with chilling precision. "The audience was just getting to the best part."
Cynthia gripped the podium, her hands shaking frantically as she stared down at me. Her eyes traveled from my face to the scar on my shoulder, and then, for the first time in seven years, absolute terror flooded her expression.
"Maya...?" Cynthia whispered, her voice amplified by the microphone for the entire room to hear. "It... it can't be..."
"Maya is dead," I said, stopping at the foot of the stage, looking up at her with cold, merciless eyes. "You killed her seven years ago when you left her in an alley to freeze to death after beating her within an inch of her life."
Gerald rushed down the aisle, standing between me and the stage, his face contorted with a mix of rage and terror.
"You crazy bitch!" Gerald shouted, dropping his polished persona entirely. "You stole from me! You’re a mentally ill addict who ran away! You forged these documents!"
"Did I forge the five hundred thousand dollars you paid to Apex Solutions to drop your daughter behind a dumpster?" I asked calmly, taking a step closer to him. "Did I forge the bank accounts in the Caymans where you hid forty million dollars in insurance fraud?"
Two state troopers, who had been stationed as security for the Mayor, immediately walked toward Gerald, their hands resting on their sidearms.
"Mr. Mercer, step away from the lady," Officer Miller—the same officer who had tried to call Gerald seven years ago—demanded sternly.
May you like
"Officer, she's an impostor!" Gerald spat, sweating profusely through his collar. "She's trying to ruin my company before the merger!"
"I am the senior managing auditor hired by your own board of directors, Mr. Mercer," I replied smoothly, pulling a thick legal document from my briefcase and handing it directly to the Chief of Police. "And as of twenty minutes ago, the Securities and Exchange Commission, along with the FBI, have seized all assets belonging to Mercer Global Enterprises."
