Chapter 3
Charles gritted his teeth, his anger simmering just below the surface. "Aaliyah! Haven't you had enough?"
"Not even close," I shot back. "You guys have been putting on your little charade behind closed doors—I think I'm entitled to speak my mind for a few minutes."
Sophie immediately put on her fake act, her eyes glistening with tears as she stepped forward, voice quivering. "Aaliyah, please stop. Charles was just trying to end things nicely—he never meant to hurt you. If you keep this up, nobody wins."
"You're right," I nodded slowly. "Especially not you. After all, that wedding dress you're wearing? It's mine."
Color drained from Sophie's face in the blink of an eye.
I didn't bother wasting my breath arguing with her. Instead, I waved at the wedding coordinator lingering backstage.
"Hook me up to the big screen."
Charles barked, "Nobody move a muscle!"
I glanced at him, a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of my lips.
"You really think I'm here to fight over some man?"
The wedding photos flickered off the screen, and the first bank transfer record popped up.
Two hundred thousand dollars, wired from my account to Charles Goodman's company five years ago.
The second slide: three hundred thousand.
The third: four hundred thousand.
The fourth: the sales contract for the house my mother had left me.
I stood center on the stage, microphone in hand, my voice steady as a rock.
"Everyone's here, gifts are given.
"For today's bonus act? Let me present—Charles Goodman: The Real Rags-to-Riches Lie."
I casually propped a hand on the dessert table beside me, just in case he tried to swipe that fancy fondant cake off the table.
"Easy there. That cake's on my tab too."
The crowd burst out laughing again, unable to hold it in any longer.
When the laughter died down, whispers hummed across the room.
"What's going on?"
"Wait—all his startup cash came from her?"
"Didn't he claim he built this all this from the ground up?"
"She sold her house for him?"
I held the mic, locked eyes with Charles, and spoke slowly, every word cutting, "You heard that right. Mr. Goodman didn't build his empire from nothing. He built it on my back.
"I'm not here to out a cheater.
"I'm here to make sure everyone knows who's really on the hook."
As soon as I finished speaking, I pulled up a second file.
It was an audio recording.
Ruth's voice filled the room first, cold and calculating.
"With that pride of hers, we can't force her. Just get her to sign first. All the guests are already here—she won't dare make a scene."
Charles' voice followed right on its heels.
"I know. Two hundred thousand is more than generous. Someone from her background isn't worth a penny more. Once she signs, all Starlight Venture's liabilities land on her. Even if it blows up, it won't touch me."
A satisfied chuckle from Ruth, dripping with disdain.
"Women like her? Throw her a little kindness and she'll break her back for you. She already sold her house for you—what makes you think she won't take the fall?"
The recording cut out abruptly, and the entire room fell deathly silent.
Then chaos erupted—loud, furious whispers exploding through the crowd.
One investor—a middle-aged man—shot to his feet, his face purple with rage. "Charles, care to explain this?"
Charles' carefully crafted composure crumbled into pieces.
His first move wasn't to defend himself. He spun around, his eyes dark with fury, like he wanted to tear me apart.
"Aaliyah, you set me up!" he spat, his anger barely in check.
"That's rich," I shot back, holding his gaze unflinchingly. "You and your mom were scheming backstage to get me to sign and take the blame—and now I'm the one playing dirty?"
"You secretly recorded us! You're no better!" Charles snapped.
"Ruth," I turned to her, my tone cold as ice, "when you were forging agreements, tricking me into signing them, and dumping all the liability on me—you sure cared a lot about who was 'good' and who was 'bad.'"
Furious, Ruth stormed toward me and raised her hand to slap me.
I stepped out of the way. Her hand missed my face and slammed straight into a nearby wine glass, sending it crashing to the floor.
Wine splashed across my shoulder and soaked half my gown.
A collective gasp rippled through the room.