Chapter 2: The Ruthless Takedown
Chapter 2: The Ruthless Takedown
Dr. Hart’s words sent my mind racing back to six months ago. That was the day Ethan Vale had ruthlessly thrown my suitcase onto the driveway while his mother, Margaret, stood on the marble steps of their lavish mansion, arms crossed, looking down with a vicious smile.
"Did you really think you could trap my son with another man’s bastard?" Margaret sneered, as if cruelty were a family tradition.
Ethan stood beside his mother in a tailored luxury suit, his arm wrapped tightly around Vanessa—my former best friend. Vanessa was still wearing my pearl earrings. She tilted her head, uttering a sentence with feigned pity: "Don’t make this uglier than it has to be, Claire."
At that time, I was four months pregnant, my head spinning from relentless morning sickness. Holding the divorce agreement their lawyer had just shoved into my hands, I realized with horror that I had been stripped of everything: the house, the savings, the car, and even my health insurance. They had moved swiftly and brutally, like wolves who had already targeted a weak prey.
Ethan had leaned close to my ear, threatening, "Sign it, or I’ll use my money to bury you in court."
And so I signed. Not because I accepted defeat. But because inside my handbag at that very moment lay copies of bank transfers, forged invoices, fake medical records, and messages proving Vanessa had helped Margaret frame me. They thought I was just a submissive wife who only knew how to arrange dinner parties and smile beside donors during my three years of managing the family's charity foundation. They had forgotten one crucial detail: I held a Master’s degree in Forensic Accounting.
Six months after that fateful night at the hospital, the perfect opportunity arrived.
At the Vale mansion, a lavish party was underway to celebrate the upcoming marriage of Ethan and Vanessa, as well as the announcement of a new international hospital project—a project they had illegally funded by embezzling from the charity foundation.
Margaret sat on an armchair like a queen mother, while Vanessa, dazzling in a magnificent mermaid dress, raised a glass of wine and laughed, "Ethan, look, without that dirt-poor wretch blocking our path, everything has gone so smoothly for us."
"Exactly. A woman like her is probably sorting through trash right now just to feed her bastard," Ethan chuckled arrogantly.
Click. Click.
The sharp sound of high heels striking the marble floor rang out, cutting through the melodious music. Every eye in the ballroom instantly turned toward the main entrance.
I walked in. I was no longer the tattered, pregnant woman they had thrown out into the streets. I wore a sophisticated, custom-tailored black suit, my hair cut into a powerful short bob. Walking beside me was Dr. Samuel Hart, accompanied by a team of the city's top lawyers and economic experts. In my hands was a thick stack of documents.
"Claire? What the hell are you doing here? Who allowed the security guards to let this beggar in?" Margaret slammed her hand on the table and stood up, shouting in a rage.
"Mrs. Vale, this estate originally belongs to the Hart family, not the Vales. And the person who holds a 60% stake in this mansion, as well as the medical conglomerate behind it, is Claire here—in her capacity as the legal guardian of the sole heir to the Hart lineage," Dr. Samuel announced loudly to the entire crowd of guests.
Ethan turned pale, stammering, "Uncle Samuel, have you gone mad? I am the son of my father, Edward!"
I stepped forward, forcefully throwing the stack of documents right into the faces of Ethan and Vanessa. The papers scattered, fluttering down to the floor.
"The DNA test result between Ethan Vale and Dr. Samuel Hart: a 0% match. Ethan, you don't possess a single drop of Hart blood. Margaret has deceived the entire clan for 25 years to steal their wealth."
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Stopping at nothing, I turned to look at Vanessa, a cold smile appearing on my lips. "And this is the audit report from a forensic accounting expert, executed by me. All the forged documents and fake invoices you and Margaret conspired to use to frame me for embezzlement—I sent the originals to the economic crimes police two hours ago. Along with evidence that you bribed doctors to falsify my pregnancy tests back then."
The color drained completely from Vanessa's face. She turned to look at Ethan, but my ex-husband had already collapsed to the floor, staring at his mother with eyes full of absolute despair.
