Chapter 7 - THE CONFRONTATION
The ballroom at the Grand Regency Hotel was packed with over fifty journalists, news crews, and local high-society figures by 10:00 AM the following morning.
Julian Belmont stood behind a polished mahogany podium, flanked by his daughter Victoria—who was wearing an understated designer suit and sporting a delicate, exaggerated neck brace to play the victim—and Eleanor Vance, who looked regal and arrogant in a dark gray Chanel dress.
I stood in the holding room just outside the main ballroom, dressed in a sharp, tailored navy pantsuit, my hair pulled back into a sleek, professional bun. Beside me was Marcus Vance, Richard’s younger brother and a renowned intellectual property and defamation attorney who had flown in overnight to assist us.
Richard was sitting in the front row of the press gallery, completely unnoticed by the media who assumed he was there to support the Belmont family statement.
"Look at them," Marcus whispered, nodding toward the stage through the cracked door. "They’ve built a complete media circus. Julian is about to announce a multi-million-dollar lawsuit against you for intentional emotional distress and property damage."
"Let him speak first," I replied, my pulse steady as a drumbeat. "The higher he builds his pedestal, the harder he falls."
Through the crack in the door, Julian Belmont stepped up to the microphones, clearing his throat dramatically. The room fell completely quiet, saved for the clicking of camera shutters.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the press," Julian began, his voice deep and practiced. "Yesterday was supposed to be the happiest day of my daughter Victoria’s life. Instead, it was transformed into a horrific nightmare by a calculated, malicious act of sabotage."
A murmur went through the room. Victoria lowered her head, dabbing at an imaginary tear with a lace handkerchief.
"We have gathered you here today," Julian continued, "to announce that we are filing formal criminal charges and a civil lawsuit against Mrs. Clara Vance, the ex-wife of my prospective son-in-law. Clara manipulated her own eight-year-old daughter into destroying a sacred ceremony out of pure, unadulterated bitter spite."
Eleanor Vance stepped up to the secondary microphone. "As Richard’s mother, I want to publicly apologize to the Belmont family. We tried for years to help Clara integrate into high society, but her deep-seated envy and instability have finally manifested in this tragic display. We fully support the legal actions being taken against her today."
"Are there any questions before we take formal legal statements?" Julian asked, raising his hand triumphantly toward the cameras.
"I have a question," a voice echoed from the back of the room.
The crowd turned around. I pushed open the heavy double doors of the ballroom and walked straight down the center aisle, flanked by Marcus.
Gasps exploded across the room. Reporters immediately turned their cameras away from the podium and locked onto me.
"It’s her! It’s Clara Vance!" "How did she get in here?!"
Julian Belmont’s face turned bright red with fury. "Security! Remove this woman immediately! This is a private press briefing!"
"I wouldn't do that, Mr. Belmont," Marcus said loudly, pulling an official court document from his briefcase. "I am Marcus Vance, legal counsel for Clara Vance. If security touches my client, we will immediately file assault charges against this hotel and your estate."
"Marcus?!" Eleanor gasped, her mouth falling open. "What are you doing with her? You are Richard’s brother!"
"I’m doing what an actual honorable member of this family should have done yesterday, Mother," Marcus said coldly, stepping up onto the side of the stage.
I walked directly up to the podium, stepping right beside Julian Belmont. He glared at me, his eyes filled with pure hatred, but the sheer number of live news cameras forced him to keep his hands to himself.
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"Mr. Belmont claims I sabotaged his daughter's wedding," I said, my voice echoing clearly through the podium microphone. "He claims I used my daughter as a weapon. But I think the public deserves to see the unedited video footage before they pass judgment."
I snapped my fingers. From the back sound booth, Richard stepped forward and pressed 'Play' on the main AV projector system.
