Chapter 6 - The Trap Is Sprung
The boardroom was as quiet as a tomb. The high-definition screens surrounding the directors shifted from complex bank ledgers to a dark, high-resolution video feed.
"What you are looking at," Madeline announced, her voice ringing clear and steady, "is raw, unedited footage recorded at 8:14 PM last night on the terrace of Vale Crest Estate."
The video began to play.
The board members watched in silence as the camera—positioned from inside Madeline’s bridal bouquet—captured the wedding reception. They saw Ethan standing near the champagne tower, laughing and drinking. Then, they saw Lila Monroe walk up behind Madeline’s seat.
Lila squeezed her eyes shut, pulling her purse tight against her stomach.
On the screen, Lila’s hands were clear. The high-definition camera captured the small bottle of chemical accelerant as she uncapped it and poured it over the train of Madeline’s gown. They saw her reach into her purse, pull out the silver lighter, and strike the wheel.
Click.
The spark caught instantly. The orange flame flared up, greedily clinging to the chemically treated silk.
Gasps of horror echoed through the boardroom. Arthur Pendelton covered his mouth in shock. Several female board members drew back in disgust.
"My God..." Pendelton whispered, looking at Lila with horror. "You burned her..."
"No! No! That’s fake! That’s AI!" Lila shrieked, jumping out of her chair, her face contorted in sheer terror. "Ethan, tell them! It’s a set-up! She fabricated the video!"
Ethan didn't speak. His face was gray, his eyes wide with a dead, hollow dread. He stared at the screen as if looking at his own execution.
"The accelerant used," Madeline continued coldly, "was an industrial compound known as Thermite-8, purchased four days ago from a chemical supplier in San Jose. Here is the receipt."
A document flashed onto the screen. It was an invoice for five liters of Thermite-8 accelerant, billed directly to a shell credit card tied to Lila Monroe’s personal bank account.
"And here," Madeline added, switching to another slide showing a police evidence bag, "is the silver lighter, retrieved from the reflecting pool this morning by private forensic investigators. It bears the engraved initials L.M. and has clear, un-smudged fingerprints belonging to Lila Monroe."
Lila collapsed back into her chair, sobbing hysterically, covering her face with her trembling hands.
"Ethan Vale and Lila Monroe did not just commit corporate fraud," Madeline declared, looking at the sixteen board members who were now glaring at Ethan with absolute disgust. "They conspired to commit premeditated murder. They attempted to kill me, and in doing so, attempted to murder Harrison Vale’s unborn grandchild."
"You monster..." Pendelton spat, standing up and pointing an accusing finger at Ethan. "You absolute monster!"
Ethan looked around the room. The power he had spent years trying to seize had evaporated in ten minutes. The board members he thought he owned were looking at him like a rabid dog. His father stood at the head of the table, his expression as cold and unforgiving as marble.
Ethan’s mind snapped.
"I built this company!" Ethan screamed, slamming his fists onto the table, his face turning bright red, veins bulging along his neck. "I did the work! You sat in your mountain estate, Dad, holding onto power while I did the dirty work! You were never going to give me control! You were going to hand everything over to her and her bastard child!"
"That child is my blood," Harrison said, his voice dropping into a register of terrifying quietness. "And you are no longer my son."
Ethan lunged across the table toward Madeline, his hands clawing at the air. "I'll destroy you! I'll kill you, you bitch—!"
Before Ethan could get within three feet of Madeline, Marcus Vance stepped forward with lightning speed. He grabbed Ethan’s outstretched arm, twisted it sharply behind his back, and slammed Ethan face-first onto the polished rosewood table.
Ethan shrieked in pain as Marcus forced him to his knees, pinning him effortlessly to the floor.
At that exact moment, the heavy double doors of the boardroom burst open again.
Six uniformed officers from the San Francisco Police Department, accompanied by District Attorney Vance and two federal agents from the FBI’s financial crimes unit, marched into the room.
DA Vance stepped forward, pulling a stack of arrest warrants from his coat pocket.
"Ethan Vale, Lila Monroe," DA Vance announced loudly, his voice echoing through the glass tower. "You are both under arrest for attempted first-degree murder, conspiracy to commit murder, corporate embezzlement, wire fraud, and falsification of financial records."
Two officers stepped forward, roughly pulling Lila from her chair and snapping steel handcuffs around her manicured wrists. She was sobbing uncontrollably, screaming Ethan’s name, but Ethan didn't look at her.
The officers pulled Ethan up off the floor. His suit was torn, his hair wild, his eyes bloodshot. As the police slapped the handcuffs onto his wrists, Ethan glared at Madeline, his breath coming in ragged, desperate hitches.
"You think you won?" Ethan spat, blood dripping from a small cut on his lip where he had hit the table. "You think you're safe now? You're nothing without the Vale name! You're just a glorified clerk!"
Madeline walked slowly up to Ethan. She stood just inches away from him, completely unintimidated by his wild rage. She looked at him with profound pity—not sadness, but the cold pity one feels for a pathetic creature that had destroyed itself through greed.
"I never wanted your name, Ethan," Madeline said softly, her voice carrying across the silent boardroom. "I only wanted the truth. And now, the truth is going to keep you in a concrete cell for the rest of your life."
She stepped back, resting her hand protectively over her bump.
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"Take them away," Harrison ordered coldly.
The police dragged Ethan and Lila out of the boardroom. Ethan’s screaming threats echoed down the long marble hallway until the elevator doors closed, cutting off his voice forever.
