“Dad,” she breathed, “what did you do?”
He did not answer.
That silence told the whole deck more than any confession could.
The Fleet Captain took the forged transfer papers from my hand, his expression hardening with every line he read.
“This request would have moved the flagship, three marina leases, and two charter subsidiaries under Marceau Holdings by midnight.”
A murmur spread through the guests.
Someone dropped a champagne glass.
The sound shattered across the deck like a gunshot.
My legal director tapped the tablet again.
The main screen changed.
This time, it showed emails.
Private messages.
Wire transfers.
Instructions sent to port officials.
And one line that made the entire crowd go still.
Make sure Isabella Vale is publicly removed before the ownership announcement.
My name.
Their plan.
Their mistake.
The influencer’s father, Roland Marceau, raised both hands.
“Madam Chairwoman, this is a misunderstanding. A clerical error. We can compensate you privately.”
I looked at the torn silk at my waist.
“At what price?”
He swallowed.
“Name it.”
The crowd watched me.
The livestream watched me.
The whole harbor seemed to wait.
Then I smiled.
“You still think this is about money.”
Roland’s face tightened.
“What else would it be?”
I stepped closer.
“It is about every crew member your family underpaid. Every marina worker you threatened. Every damage claim you buried under another member’s account. Every document you forged because you thought luxury meant nobody would check the paperwork.”
His daughter began trembling.
The viewers on the livestream were no longer laughing.
Neither were the guests.
Because rich people fear one thing more than scandal.
Records.
And I had all of them.
PART 4
Suddenly, another voice cut through the deck.
“You have no authority to expose private member records in public.”