“Attorney Davis already thoroughly reviewed every single clause,” Luke confirmed. “He was a top student of my grandfather, and he is currently waiting for us at the hotel lobby with certified copies of the contract.”
I closed my eyes for a brief moment, feeling emotional. My father had died three years ago, but he was still actively defending me from beyond the grave.
“What exactly do you want to do right now?” Luke asked me with a calm expression that almost hurt to see.
“No, Luke,” I corrected him. “The real question is, what do you want to do?”
I thought about Brenda wearing my champagne dress, about Christopher letting her introduce herself as his wife, about the drugged cup of broth, and about the chilling voice in the audio recording asking how to make a woman slowly disappear.
“I want to get my name and my dignity back,” I stated firmly.
Luke nodded in agreement. “Then go get dressed right now.”
I did not choose another formal evening gown for the event. Instead, I put on a perfectly tailored black power suit, a crisp white silk blouse, and high heels. I put my dark hair up securely. When I stood in front of the mirror, I did not see a humiliated, broken wife, but rather Lawrence Mendoza’s proud daughter.
We went downstairs together. Mrs. Higgins was crying silently by the door.
“Put that specific cup of chicken broth into a clean plastic bag immediately,” Luke ordered her. “Do not wash it under any circumstances because it is vital forensic evidence.”
Our private driver was waiting for us outside the house. The night air in Los Angeles was cool, and the distant city lights shone brightly like a wound across the landscape.
Inside the speeding car, Luke calmly made three separate phone calls.
“Uncle Raymond, activate the secure backup video transmission right now,” Luke said during his first call. “Yes, make sure the national media outlets receive the feed too. Mr. Davis, have the legal agreement ready. Mr. Garrison, in exactly twenty minutes, you will fully know why my mother did not arrive at the gala on time.”
I looked at my son with wonder. “How long have you been planning this entire move, Luke?”
“I have been planning this since I turned sixteen,” he answered frankly.
My heart practically stopped. “Why didn’t you ever tell me about it?”
“Because you still wanted to save my dad back then,” he said quietly.
I could not find any words to answer him.
The car entered through the luxury hotel’s back entrance. On Luke’s tablet, the charity gala was still playing live for the public. Brenda was standing on the grand stage, smiling brightly next to Christopher while the presenter announced a beautiful piece of jewelry donated by “Mrs. Albright.”
It was my personal emerald necklace.
“Mom,” Luke said softly, “you will go inside through the private service elevator. Mr. Davis will be waiting for you directly upstairs.”
“And what about you?” I asked anxiously.
He adjusted the burgundy silk tie I had given him for his last birthday. “I am going to enter through the main front door.”
“Are you going in completely alone?” I questioned.
Luke smiled without any real joy. “No, Mother. I am going in with the absolute truth.”
Before closing the car door, he took my hand tightly. “I have played this complex chess game for two long years, and tonight is finally checkmate.”
I watched him walk confidently toward the hotel’s brightly lit main entrance. I immediately went up in the service elevator, pressing my father’s legal agreement tightly against my chest.
When the elevator doors opened, Mr. Davis was waiting for me with serious eyes, holding a sealed manila folder.
“Vivian,” the attorney said gently. “Your dad would be incredibly proud of you tonight.”
Loud applause could be heard echoing from the end of the long corridor.
The stage presenter announced loudly, “We now invite Mrs. Albright to say a few important words to our guests.”
Then, Brenda’s sweet, false voice replied through the speakers, “Thank you so much. My husband and I have always believed in helping others.”
At that exact moment, the heavy main doors of the ballroom burst open wide.
Every single person in the room turned around to look.
Luke had just walked into the gala.
PART 3
A sudden, heavy silence fell over the massive room as if someone had turned off the air conditioning.
Luke strolled leisurely among the wealthy guests, with four serious men in dark suits trailing closely behind him. He did not look to the left or right because he was not seeking anyone’s approval. He walked straight toward the grand stage, where Brenda held the microphone tightly in one hand and clung to Christopher’s arm with the other.
My dress, on her stolen body, no longer looked elegant at all. It looked like a piece of criminal evidence.
“What on earth are you doing here, Luke?” Christopher growled angrily from below the stage.
Luke stopped walking and looked his father dead in the eye. “I came here to help you, Dad.”
That surprising phrase thoroughly confused everyone in attendance, including Christopher himself.
Luke walked up the stage steps. The nervous presenter handed him the microphone without Luke even having to ask for it twice.
“Good evening, everyone,” my son said clearly into the microphone. “I am Luke Mendoza, son of Christopher Albright and Vivian Mendoza. I have proudly used my mother’s maiden name since I was a child, and tonight I have come here to clear up a major misunderstanding.”
Loud whispers began to grow rapidly across the ballroom. Brenda tried to maintain her smile, but her mouth twitched nervously.
“First, I want to formally thank Miss Brenda Vance,” Luke continued loudly, “for coming here tonight in place of my mother. Thank you for wearing her dress and her personal jewelry, and for presenting yourself to the public as if you were actually Mrs. Albright.”
An indignant murmur instantly swept through the entire room.
“What is he saying?” one guest whispered.
“Isn’t that woman his actual wife?” another person asked.
“I knew Vivian, and that woman on stage is definitely not her,” a third voice added.
Christopher walked up onto the stage with a completely hardened face. “Get out of this building right now, Luke.”
“I am not finished talking yet, Dad,” Luke replied calmly.
My son reached into his jacket and pulled out a thick black envelope. “Tonight, I am making three specific documents public. First, here is the absolute proof of my father’s extramarital affair with Miss Vance over the past two years, including dates, hotels, luxury trips, invoices, and eyewitness statements.”
Bright camera flashes began to go off rapidly.
“Second, here are the official banking records of transfers totaling sixty-eight million dollars diverted by Miss Vance into her own personal accounts and shell companies,” Luke declared.
Brenda took a sudden step back, her face pale. “That is a lie!”
“And the third document,” Luke said as he held up a certified copy, “is the prenuptial agreement signed by Christopher Albright twenty years ago before a public notary. According to this legally binding document, if my father ever committed adultery, fifty-one percent of the total shares of the Grand Horizon Group would automatically pass to my mother and me.”
The entire ballroom exploded into chaos.
Several guests stood up from their tables, while others immediately took out their cell phones to record the drama. Journalists rushed frantically toward the stage. Christopher yelled loudly for security to turn off the room lights, to cut the live broadcast, and to throw his son out of the building.
Luke did not even blink at the shouting. “The broadcast cannot be cut, Dad. This live stream is no longer controlled by the hotel staff, and right now, hundreds of thousands of people are actively watching it online.”
Christopher turned completely white.
Then, Luke turned his gaze toward the side door of the stage. “The real donor of the emerald necklace is not the fake Mrs. Albright you see standing on this stage. The true donor is my mother, Vivian Mendoza.”
Mr. Davis pulled back the velvet curtain, and I walked out.
I was not wearing flashy diamonds or a ball gown. I was not wearing anything that could be mistaken for a fake mask. I wore only my black power suit, my clean face, and my father’s legal agreement held firmly in my hand.
The wealthy guests quickly parted to make a clear path for me. I heard my name repeated like a rolling wave through the crowd.
