The phone rang three times. The tension in the ballroom was so thick it felt like it was crushing the air out of the guests' lungs.
A sharp click echoed through the massive speakers.
"Good evening, Mr. Brecken. Is there an emergency requiring financial authorization?"
Arthur's deep, professional baritone filled the room. As the chief wealth manager for the Dudley empire, his voice carried the absolute weight of legal and financial truth.
Brecken stood tall by the DJ booth. He slipped his free hand into his tailored trouser pocket, striking a pose of supreme, vindicated confidence. He swept his gaze over the crowd, making sure everyone was paying attention to his impending victory.
"Arthur, I need you to pull up the records for Abbey Dudley's personal trust fund," Brecken ordered, his tone dripping with arrogant authority. "I want you to confirm, right now, on speakerphone, that eighteen million dollars was deposited into her account annually for the last five years."
Brecken paused, shooting a venomous glare at Abbey. "And please inform our guests that she has completely drained the account."
Through the speakers, the rapid, rhythmic clacking of a mechanical keyboard could be heard.
Then, the typing stopped. A heavy, uncomfortable silence stretched over the line.
"Arthur? Read the ledger," Brecken demanded, his brow furrowing slightly at the delay.
Arthur cleared his throat. When he spoke, his professional tone was laced with deep confusion and hesitation.
"My apologies, Mr. Brecken... but are you perhaps mistaken about the account details?"
Brecken's confident posture cracked. He pulled his hand out of his pocket. "Mistaken about what? Just read the damn balance!"
Arthur let out a slow breath. His voice boomed through the ballroom, crisp and undeniable.
"Miss Abbey Dudley's trust fund account was completely frozen five years ago, on October 12th. The balance is zero."
The words hit the room like a physical shockwave. A collective, deafening gasp erupted from the hundreds of guests. Women covered their mouths. Men widened their eyes in shock.
Brecken's entire body went rigid. The blood drained from his face so fast he looked like a corpse. His brain stalled, unable to process the words.
"What? Frozen? That's impossible!" Brecken yelled at the phone, his voice cracking with panic.
"It is not just frozen, sir," Arthur continued, his tone turning clinical to protect himself from the fallout. "According to the authorization documents signed by Madam Blair Dudley, the eighteen-million-dollar annual allocation was permanently redirected."
"Redirected where?!" Brecken roared. A cold, sickening sweat broke out across his forehead. His heart hammered violently against his ribs.
"The funds were transferred in full to an offshore private account in the Cayman Islands," Arthur stated, delivering the fatal blow. "The account is registered under the name of Miss Emmie Dudley. Miss Abbey has not received a single cent from this family in five years."
The ballroom exploded.
The polite whispers turned into a chaotic roar of outrage and scandal. The elite guests stared at the Dudley family with naked disgust.
"My god! They left their biological daughter to rot in prison with nothing, and gave double the money to the adopted girl?"
"They are monsters. Absolute vampires."
The brutal comments flew through the air, striking Brecken like physical blows. His hand shook so violently he nearly dropped the phone. He stared at Abbey.
Abbey hadn't moved an inch. She stood in her frayed uniform, her face a mask of chilling calm.
"No... no, there has to be a mistake. Mom wouldn't do that..." Brecken muttered into the microphone, his elite facade completely shattering. He sounded like a lost, terrified child.
Abbey dragged her right leg forward. Scrape. Thud.
She walked up to Brecken. The crowd parted for her. She reached out her hand. Her skin was rough, covered in calluses and scars. She gently patted Brecken on his rigid, trembling shoulder.
"Do you understand now, brother?" Abbey's voice rang out, its rough, damaged timbre cutting through the air like a jagged blade. "I didn't blow your money in underground casinos. Your family stripped me bare, so thoroughly that I couldn't even afford a new shirt."
Every word was a razor blade slicing through the Dudley family's reputation.
Near the back of the room, Blair Dudley let out a strangled cry. She tried to run forward to stop the humiliation, but Chandler grabbed her arm, his fingers digging into her flesh to keep her hidden from the glaring eyes of their peers.
Brecken felt the room spinning. The moral high ground he had stood on for five years crumbled into dust beneath his feet. The humiliation burned his throat like acid.
But his ego was too massive to accept defeat. His narcissistic brain frantically searched for a way to shift the blame back onto her.
He slammed his finger onto the phone screen, violently cutting the call. He spun around and glared at Abbey, his eyes bloodshot and wild like a cornered animal.
"If you didn't get the money, why didn't you say anything?!" Brecken screamed, spitting the words at her face. "You kept your mouth shut on purpose! You planned this just to embarrass us tonight!"
He pointed his finger at her chest, desperately trying to paint her as the villain one last time.