Chapter 5: The Gala Execution
The grand ballroom of the Drake Hotel was a sea of black ties, diamond necklaces, and flashing press cameras. Derek Morrison stood near the stage, looking triumphant in a custom tuxedo, his hand wrapped tightly around Brittany’s waist. Brittany wore a form-fitting ivory gown, smiling brilliantly for the journalists who were asking about her viral videos.
"We just want the truth to come out," Brittany told a reporter from the Chicago Tribune. "Derek is a good man, and we won't let our future child be overshadowed by malicious lies."
Suddenly, the ballroom doors swung open.
The chatter in the room died instantly as Matteo Vance walked in. He looked regal, commanding, wearing a midnight-black tuxedo that screamed old, untouchable money. But it was the woman on his arm that made the entire press pool gasp.
I walked beside him, wearing a stunning, emerald-green silk gown that flowed elegantly over my postpartum curves. My dark hair was styled into sophisticated waves, my chin lifted high—not with fear, but with the unyielding strength Matteo had helped me find. Marcus followed closely behind us, pushing a luxury stroller where Lily lay fast asleep, wrapped in a blanket bearing the Vance family crest.
Derek’s face drained of all color. Brittany’s smile froze into a horrific mask of panic.
"Mr. Vance!" the CEO of Morris Logistics hurried over, looking terrified. "We... we didn't expect you to attend tonight!"
"I wouldn't miss it," Matteo said, his voice echoing clearly across the quiet room. He walked straight toward the stage, pulling a small remote from his pocket. "I believe your keynote presentation has a small technical update."
Matteo pressed the button.
The massive projection screens behind the stage flickered. The corporate logo vanished, replaced by the stark, raw footage of the Northwestern Memorial hospital hallway from a week ago.
The audio boomed through the ballroom's high-end sound system.
"I told you. I need a paternity test before I sign anything," Derek’s voice echoed powerfully, cold and detached.
The crowd gasped. The reporters immediately turned their cameras toward the screen, capturing every second of the footage. The audience watched as Brittany smiled her smug little smile behind her coffee cup, uttering the words: "Maybe it's better to wait, Emma. Derek has a lot to protect... From mistakes."
The footage showed Derek walking away, leaving me collapsing against the windowsill, before Matteo stepped out of the shadows to catch me.
The screen went black, and the silence in the ballroom was absolute.
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"That," Matteo announced into the microphone, looking directly at the trembling board of directors, "is the man you are about to promote to Vice President. A man who abandons his own blood because of a business deal. The Vance Group is officially severing all contracts with Morris Logistics, effective immediately, until Derek Morrison is removed from his position and stripped of his shares."
Brittany let out a shrill scream of panic as the paparazzi descended upon them like a pack of wolves, flashbulbs blinding them as Derek fell to his knees, his career, his reputation, and his life completely ruined in a matter of seconds.
