Chapter 3 - The Boardroom ConfrontationWithin twenty minutes of the fall, the mansion doors burst open, but it wasn't just the paramedics rushing inside. Accompanying them were two sharp-suited federal investigators, led by Lead Detective Marcus Ruiz, along with the family's senior legal counsel.
Vanessa immediately rushed forward, wiping her face with a silk handkerchief. "Officers, thank goodness! Please, you need to document this! My sister-in-law suffered a severe psychiatric episode! She attacked me at the top of the landing and lost her balance! I tried to catch her, but it was too late!"
Mrs. Howard, trembling with grief, leaned heavily on her cane. "Is it true? Elena... did she lose her mind?"
"I have the medical documents right here!" Vanessa declared, pulling a thick folder from her designer leather bag and thrusting it toward Detective Ruiz. "Her private physician diagnosed her with acute paranoid psychosis yesterday. She’s dangerous, Mother. We must secure the estate and petition for emergency conservatorship immediately before her family tries to sue us!"
Detective Ruiz didn't take the folder. Instead, he looked past Vanessa toward the bottom of the staircase.
Elena sat up smoothly, brushing the dust from her designer cardigan.
Vanessa’s breath caught in her throat. The color drained from her cheeks in an instant. "What... what are you doing? Lie down! You're injured! You're hallucinating!"
"I've never been clearer in my life, Vanessa," Elena said, her voice ringing through the grand hall with absolute, icy authority. She stood up without a single stumble, adjusting her sweater to reveal the lightweight, high-tech carbon-fiber protective brace strapped securely around her pregnant belly. "And my babies are completely unharmed."
"You... you faked it?!" Vanessa shrieked, backing away. "Mother, look at her! She staged this entire scene to frame me!"
"No, Vanessa," Elena replied, stepping toward the center of the marble foyer. She pulled a sleek tablet from the hidden pocket of her coat and tapped the screen. "You staged it. I simply let the cameras roll."
Instantly, the massive high-definition smart screen mounted in the grand drawing room flickered to life. The audio system filled the house with crystal-clear sound.
On the screen, high-resolution footage from three different angles played back the entire scene from ten minutes prior. It showed Vanessa sneering, grabbing Elena’s arm, and violently shoving her down the stairs while shouting, "Die, you gold-digging bitch!" The video clearly captured the lack of any struggle, the predatory look on Vanessa’s face, and the cold calculation in her eyes before she started her fake crying routine.
Mrs. Howard gasped in sheer horror, dropping her cane onto the marble floor. "Vanessa... what have you done?"
"That's... that's deepfake technology! It's fabricated!" Vanessa screamed hysterically, her eyes darting toward the front doors. "You can't use that! I am a Howard! I run this estate!"
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"Not anymore," a deep, thunderous voice boomed from the grand entrance.
Vanessa froze as if struck by lightning. Standing in the doorway, wearing a tailored black three-piece suit, was Julian Howard. He had returned two days early, having coordinated every single step of the sting operation with his wife.
