Chapter 11 - The Voice from the Deep
A soft, clear click echoed through the ballroom's acoustic speakers, followed by the sound of heavy, measured footsteps stepping up to a live audio feed.
Then, Margaret’s voice filled the cavernous room, calm, resonant, and carrying the icy weight of absolute authority.
“Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed colleagues, and honored guests,” Margaret spoke into the hidden microphone connected directly from the estate's master security console in the basement. “Thank you for attending tonight’s celebration of our family’s legacy. But before the evening concludes, I believe it is only fitting that we share a very special, long-overdue family history lesson.”
Across the ballroom, Arthur Vance went completely rigid. The crystal flute slipped from his fingers, shattering against the polished marble floor with a sharp explosion of glass and golden liquid. He spun around, his face draining of every drop of color as his eyes locked onto the master control panel mounted high on the balcony wall—a panel that was supposed to be password-locked and inaccessible to anyone outside his inner circle.
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“Turn that off!” Arthur screamed, his voice cracking with sudden, unadulterated panic as he lunged toward the grand staircase. “Cut the power! It’s a malicious hack! Someone shut her down!”
But it was far too late.
