Chapter 6 - The Unmasking
Glasses shattered as guests dropped them onto the marble floor. Reporters scrambled for their cameras, flashbulbs exploding like fireworks across the hall. Board members gasped, falling back against the walls in shock.
"L-Lorenzo?" Matteo stammered, his face turning the color of chalk. The pen slipped from his trembling fingers and clattered against the floor.
Isabella let out a high-pitched shriek, staggering backward into Falco, her eyes wide with terror as if she were staring at a ghost risen straight from hell.
"You look surprised, brother," Lorenzo said smoothly, his voice carrying effortlessly across the silent room as he walked down the central aisle. The crowd parted instantly, people ducking out of his way in absolute awe.
"He's... he's an impostor!" Damian Cole roared from the side of the stage, drawing his sidearm. "Guards! Neutralize him!"
Before Damian could raise his gun, Raphael Bruno raised a silenced pistol and fired a single shot. The bullet hit Damian squarely in the shoulder, knocking him off his feet and sending his gun spinning across the floor. Two loyal enforcers immediately tackled Damian, pinning him to the marble.
"Nobody move," Raphael announced coldly, scanning the remaining security guards. Recognizing their true boss, every single mercenary hired by Damian dropped their weapons and raised their hands in surrender.
Lorenzo reached the front of the stage. He stepped up onto the raised platform, towering over his younger brother.
"You told the board I was dying, Matteo," Lorenzo said, his voice cold as ice. "You told them I was paralyzed. Blind. Helpless."
"Lorenzo... please..." Matteo whimpered, backing away until his back hit the glass window. "It... it was a misunderstanding! I was only trying to protect the company!"
"Protect the company?" Lorenzo sneered.
He gestured to Clara.
Clara stepped forward calmly, walking up to the technician's booth beside the grand projection screen used for corporate presentations. She plugged the silver flash drive into the main console.
Instantly, the massive 30-foot digital screen behind the stage flickered to life.
A high-definition video recording began playing, complete with crystal-clear audio.
On the screen, Matteo and Isabella were sitting in the West Wing library of the mansion, drinking champagne.
"Is the brake line done?" Isabella's voice echoed through the ballroom speakers.
"Damian took care of it personally," Matteo’s recorded voice replied, laughing. "The Maserati will go off the cliff near Long Island. By midnight, I’ll be the Don, and you’ll be my queen."
"What about Lorenzo's money?" Isabella asked on the video.
"Fifty million is already transferred to Panama," Matteo answered. "And if he survives the crash, Damian will put poison in his IV bag."
The ballroom exploded into furious shouts and horrified gasps.
Reporters shouted questions, their cameras recording every second of the damning confession. Board members glared at Matteo with pure hatred, realizing they had almost handed a multi-billion-dollar empire to a murderous traitor.
Isabella dropped to her knees, crying hysterically. "It was Matteo! He made me do it! Lorenzo, my love, please! He forced me!"
Lorenzo didn't even look at her. His cold gaze remained fixed entirely on his brother.
"You broke the first rule our father taught us, Matteo," Lorenzo said softly, stepping closer to his trembling brother. "Never betray family."
At that moment, the grand doors at the back of the room burst open again.
This time, it was a squad of twelve FBI agents and New York State Police officers, led by a senior Assistant District Attorney.
"Matteo Duca! Isabella Rossi! Damian Cole!" the Lead Agent shouted, drawing his weapon. "You are under arrest for attempted murder, conspiracy, wire fraud, and grand larceny!"
Handcuffs clicked loudly across the stage.
As the police dragged Matteo away in shame, he turned his head, screaming at his brother: "You were supposed to die in that car, Lorenzo! You were supposed to die!"
Lorenzo watched him go without a flicker of emotion.
Then, he turned around to face the crowded ballroom. The reporters, board members, and high-society guests stared at him in stunned silence, waiting for his word.
Lorenzo walked over to Clara.
In front of two hundred powerful people, in front of every news camera in New York City, Lorenzo took Clara’s hand and pulled her up onto the stage beside him.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Lorenzo announced, his voice ringing with absolute, majestic authority. "Duca Enterprises remains under my complete command. And the treacherous era of my family is officially over."
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He looked at Clara, his dark eyes softening with a deep, radiant warmth. "And this is Clara Bennett. The woman who saved my life, protected my honor, and restored my empire."
The room erupted into a deafening roar of applause.
