Chapter 3 - The Coldest Reunion
The backstage hallway plunged into an icy, suffocating silence. Victoria turned her head sharply toward me, her eyes narrowing into cold slits as her gaze darted between my paralyzed expression and the faces of the two young girls standing just a few feet away. For the first time, the blind arrogance in Victoria’s eyes gave way to a creeping, horrific realization.
""Nathaniel?"" Victoria’s voice dropped from an enraged screech to a razor-sharp whisper. ""What is she talking about?""
I couldn't speak. My mouth opened, but no sound came out. Clara and Evelyn exchanged a troubled glance, stepping closer to their mother.
""Mom?"" Evelyn asked softly, her young voice carrying a tremor of confusion. ""Who are these people? Why is that lady looking at us like that?""
Rebecca gently placed a protective hand on each of her daughters' shoulders. ""Girls, why don't you wait in the green room with Professor Vance for just ten minutes? Grab some juice. Mom needs to have a private conversation with the president of Brookfield Technologies.""
The girls hesitated, casting one last lingering, analytical glance at my face. It was horrifying how perceptive they were—I could see their minds calculating the identical shape of our ears, the shared curve of our hairlines. Finally, they nodded and walked back toward the hospitality suite, leaving the four of us standing in the sterile corridor.
""Speak to me, Nathaniel!"" Victoria hissed, her voice vibrating with barely contained fury. ""Who are they?""
""They are Clara and Evelyn Brooks,"" Rebecca answered for me, her eyes never leaving mine. ""Or rather, Clara and Evelyn Bennett. Thirteen years ago, Nathaniel packed his designer luggage while I was sick on the bathroom floor carrying his unborn twins. He decided a bankrupt founder’s pregnant wife didn’t look good on the arm of an ambitious executive aiming to marry into the Sterling dynasty.""
Victoria gasped, taking a voluntary step back as if struck by physical lightning. Her hand flew to her throat. ""You... you had a family?"" She turned to me, her face pale with humiliation and disgust. ""You told me you were a bachelor! You told my father your past was completely clean, that you had dedicated your entire twenties purely to venture capital!""
""Victoria, please... let's go home, we can talk about this in private,"" I begged, my voice cracking, stepping forward with outstretched hands.
""Don't you dare touch me!"" Victoria recoiled, her eyes flashing with pure hatred. ""You pathetic, lying leech! You used my family's connections, my father's prestige, and my social standing to build yourself up, while hiding this sewer of a past behind our backs?""
May you like
""Oh, the past isn't behind your backs, Victoria,"" Rebecca said with a cold, devastating smile. She held up the worn blue folder, tapping its faded cardboard edges. ""The past is right here. And it’s not about alimony, or child support, or child abandonment. It’s about the very foundation of your entire fortune.""
Rebecca looked at me, her eyes hardening into steel. ""Nathaniel, take your wife back to your hotel suite. I will meet you in the private lounge on the penthouse floor at midnight. If you fail to show up, or if your wife tries to file a single petition against my daughters' victory tonight, every document inside this folder will be emailed directly to the Securities and Exchange Commission, the Department of Justice, and the national press.""
