Chapter 11: The Counterstrike
Chapter 11: The Counterstrike
The press conference was hastily arranged on the steps of the New York State Supreme Court, but within an hour, every major news network had dispatched a satellite truck. Maya and Liam watched the broadcast from the safety of Julian Vance’s boardroom.
Eleanor Vanderbilt stood before a forest of microphones. She wore no makeup, her hair was pulled into a severe, unstyled knot, and her designer coat looked two sizes too big for her shrinking frame. She did not look like a billionaire's wife; she looked like a woman who had been walking around with a hollow chest for twenty-five years.
"My name is Eleanor Vanderbilt," she began, her voice trembling but amplified by the speakers. "For twenty-five years, I believed my infant daughter had died during childbirth. I was heavily sedated, grieving, and entirely dependent on my husband, Robert Vanderbilt. Yesterday, I discovered that my daughter did not die. She was stolen from me."
The reporters erupted into a frenzy of shouted questions, but Eleanor held up a shaking hand, forcing them into silence.
"I am releasing my full, unredacted medical records from the night of her birth. They prove I never carried twins. They prove I gave birth to a single, healthy baby girl. My husband orchestrated an illegal black-market adoption to secure a male heir to the Vanderbilt trust. He bought a baby boy and sold my daughter. I am submitting to a court-ordered DNA test, and I will be fully cooperating with federal authorities to ensure my husband faces justice for his crimes."
Maya reached out, her hand finding Liam’s under the heavy mahogany table. He squeezed her fingers tightly, his eyes glued to the screen. Watching the woman who had raised him confess to the world that his entire existence was a purchased lie was a profound, agonizing trauma.
"She did it," Julian Vance said, staring at the monitor with predatory satisfaction. "She just handed the FBI probable cause on a silver platter. Robert's PR team won't be able to spin this."
"We need to secure my parents," Maya said urgently, tearing her eyes away from the screen. "Robert knows we didn't back down. He’s going to release those forged extortion documents to the authorities. He’s going to send the police to their house in Ohio."
Julian picked up his desk phone, dialing his head of security. "Already in motion, Maya. I dispatched a private jet and a security detail to Ohio three hours ago. Your parents are currently in the air. They will be landing at Teterboro Airport in forty minutes. Robert cannot touch them."
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Maya let out a ragged breath, the crushing weight on her chest slightly easing. But Liam remained perfectly still, his jaw locked. He knew Robert better than anyone in the room.
"It's not enough," Liam said quietly. "If Robert filed those fake documents with his lawyers, the FBI will still have to investigate the Millers for extortion. They could spend years tied up in federal court defending themselves. My father destroys people through attrition. We need the original, unaltered contracts he forced them to sign twenty-five years ago."
