Richard stepped forward aggressively, pointing an index finger at Clara's face, his composure completely crumbling.
Richard: You signed those surrender documents! My legal team will destroy you in court! You won't get a single penny, and you'll rot in a jail cell for slander!
Voice from the back: I wouldn't be so sure about that, Mr. Vance.
A tall man in a sharp charcoal gray suit stepped out from the crowd of guests. He held a leather briefcase in his left hand and a badge in his right.
Richard: Marcus? You're my head corporate attorney! What are you doing?
Marcus: I was your corporate attorney, Richard. Until two days ago, when Clara brought me the certified DNA results and the original hospital intake records from Ohio.
Richard: You betrayed me? I pay your salary!
Marcus: I am an officer of the court, Richard. I don't cover up human trafficking. Federal agents and Child Protective Services are standing outside the front gates right now.
Richard stumbled backward, bumping against a dessert table, his face devoid of color. The wealthy guests pulled out their phones, recording every second of the spectacle.
Clara: I didn't come here for your money, Richard. I don't want your mansion, your luxury cars, or your inheritance. I only came back to take my son home.
Richard: You can't provide for him! You live in a two-room apartment!
Clara: A small home full of love is worth more than a cold palace filled with fake people like you.
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