Chapter 4 - It is time we face reality
The ballroom around us went completely, deathly silent.
If anyone had raised a camera at that exact fraction of a second—they would have captured the absolute peak of Mark's unearned arrogance before the total destruction of his life. In the image, Mark is caught mid-laugh in his sharp tuxedo, leaning forward and aggressively pointing his finger directly at my face to emphasize his cruelty. Beside him, Jessica is clutching the blonde baby, her face twisted in a look of absolute panic as she stares at me. And standing opposite them is me, in my elegant navy gown, completely unbothered, clutching a small black evening bag that holds the instrument of his ruin.
"You're right, Mark," I said, my voice carrying clearly over the silent crowd. "It is time we face reality."
I opened my evening bag, pulled out a folded piece of paper, and handed it to him.
"What is this?" he scoffed, taking it with one hand while keeping his mocking smirk.
"That is a copy of your unsealed medical records from Dr. Aris's clinic," I stated plainly, my voice ringing like a bell through the ballroom. "The ones you paid thirty thousand dollars to alter so I wouldn't find out about your non-obstructive azoospermia."
Mark froze.
The smug smile slid off his face like wet clay. His eyes locked onto the medical terminology highlighted in yellow.
"You have zero sperm count, Mark," I continued, ensuring every board member and surgeon in a ten-foot radius heard me. "You have been completely and irreversibly sterile for five years. Which means my body wasn't the problem. Yours was."
Mark's hands began to shake. The paper rattled in his grip. He looked up at me, the color draining from his face until he looked like a ghost.
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"No," he whispered. "This... this is a lie. I have a son!"
I looked directly at Jessica.
