Chapter 3 - The Immortalized Confrontation
The color completely drained from Ashley’s face.
She looked at Eric, waiting for him to object, to shout that I was lying, to reclaim his power. But Eric just stared at the tablecloth, a broken, empty suit.
If someone in that ballroom had raised their camera at that exact fraction of a second—they would have captured the absolute, devastating collapse of a delusion. In the image, Ashley is standing in her pale, tight gown, pointing furiously, her face twisted in a desperate, screaming panic as she tries to hold onto a reality that no longer exists. Eric stands near her, his jaw slack, radiating pure cowardice. And I am standing opposite them in my beaded dress, holding an envelope, completely untouchable.
"No," Ashley gasped into the microphone, the feedback whining sharply. "No, you're lying! You're just trying to scare him! Eric has offshore accounts, he told me!"
"Eric lied to you, Ashley," I said gently. "Because men who cheat on their wives usually aren't very honest with their mistresses either."
"It doesn't matter!" she shrieked, clutching her stomach. "He's still the father! He still has to pay child support! You can't take everything from us!"
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I smiled. The cold, locked box inside my chest finally opened, releasing the ultimate checkmate.
"About the baby, Ashley," I said. "You know, when I hired a private investigator to track Eric’s movements in April, they didn't just follow him. They followed you."
