The woman in the green dress introduced herself as Dr. Vivian Cross.

Laurel recognized the name immediately.

Vivian had served on the board of the hospital where her mother worked.

She was also one of the largest private donors to the Brightstep Children’s Center.

Preston’s hand tightened around the microphone.

“Dr. Cross, this is a private business matter.”

Vivian looked at him.

“Then why are you discussing it in front of four hundred people?”

A ripple of laughter passed through the ballroom.

Preston flushed.

“I was simply informing the guests about financial misconduct.”

“With documents you obtained from whom?”

He hesitated.

“Reliable sources.”

Vivian turned toward the projection screen.

“Then perhaps your reliable sources should explain why those records contain figures from a different fiscal year.”

Silence.

Laurel stared at the screen.

The numbers looked familiar.

Too familiar.

They came from an internal budgeting report she had prepared eighteen months earlier.

But the dates had been changed.

And several transfers had been labeled as suspicious expenses.

Vivian held up a printed ledger.

“These expenditures were approved by the hotel’s finance department. They concern emergency staffing and accessibility improvements.”

She faced Preston.

“Did you know that before accusing Miss Hensley?”

Preston’s mouth opened.

Nothing came out.

Then Elias North stepped onto the stage.

“May I?”

Vivian handed him the microphone.

Elias looked across the ballroom.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the interruption to an evening intended to support children and families.”

His voice was steady.

“But I believe a serious allegation has been made without adequate evidence.”

He glanced at Laurel.

“Miss Hensley deserves the opportunity to respond.”

Preston laughed nervously.

“Mr. North, surely you don’t intend to involve yourself in a personal dispute.”

Elias turned.

“Mr. Wade, you brought your personal dispute onto a public stage.”

The room fell quiet.

“Now you’re surprised someone else is standing on it?”

Several guests applauded.

Preston’s expression darkened.

But before Elias could continue, Camille Dorsey stepped forward.

“Stop.”

Everyone turned.

Camille looked at Preston.

“Tell them the truth.”

He stared at her.

“Camille, not now.”

“Yes. Now.”

Her voice shook.

“You told me Laurel had been harassing you for months.”

Laurel blinked.

Camille looked directly at her.

“You told me she threatened to destroy your company because she couldn’t accept the breakup.”

Preston reached for her arm.

“Sweetheart—”

Camille stepped away.

“You told me she stole confidential information from you.”

Laurel’s stomach twisted.

Preston forced a smile.

“You’re confused.”

“No.”

Camille reached into her silver clutch.

“I’m finally not confused.”

She removed her phone.

Then she held it up.

“Three days ago, Preston asked me to contact a man named Russell Vane.”

Elias went completely still.

Laurel noticed.

“Who’s Russell Vane?” she whispered.

Elias didn’t answer.

Camille continued.

“Preston said Russell worked in corporate security. He wanted me to send him a copy of Laurel’s hotel employee file.”

Preston lunged toward her.

“Give me that phone.”

Elias stepped between them.

“Don’t.”

One word.

Quiet.

Absolute.

Preston stopped.

Camille’s eyes filled with tears.

“I thought I was helping protect Preston from a dangerous ex-girlfriend.”

She looked at Laurel.

“I’m sorry.”

Laurel didn’t know what to feel.

Anger.

Disbelief.

Relief.

All of them.

Camille turned the phone toward Elias.

“There are messages.”

Elias read them.

His expression changed.

Not dramatically.

But enough.

“Where did you get these?”

“Preston sent them to me.”

“Are they still on the original device?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t delete anything.”

Preston suddenly stepped away from the podium.

“This is ridiculous. I’m leaving.”

Vivian blocked the stairs.

“You’re welcome to leave, Mr. Wade.”

She paused.

“But I suggest you wait for the police.”

The word police spread through the ballroom like electricity.

Preston’s face went pale.

Then something happened that nobody expected.

The lights went out.

Every chandelier.

Every wall sconce.

Every screen.

Darkness swallowed the room.

A woman screamed.

Glass shattered.

Someone shouted for security.

Laurel instinctively reached for the event tablet.

Her fingers found only empty air.

She had left it upstairs.

Then a hand caught her wrist.

Hard.

A man’s voice whispered in her ear.

“Come with me if you want to know what happened to your mother.”

Laurel’s blood turned cold.

It wasn’t Preston.

The voice was older.

Rougher.

She tried to pull away.

The grip tightened.

“Don’t scream.”

A narrow emergency light flickered near the service corridor.

For one second, Laurel saw the man’s face.

Gray hair.

Thin lips.

A scar across his eyebrow.

Russell Vane.

The name Camille had just mentioned.

Laurel twisted her wrist and drove her heel into his foot.

He cursed.

She broke free.

“SECURITY!”

The emergency generators started.

Light flooded the ballroom.

Russell vanished into the crowd.

Elias was beside her almost immediately.

“What happened?”

Laurel could barely breathe.

“A man grabbed me.”

“Who?”

“Russell Vane.”

Elias’s face changed.

For the first time that evening, he looked genuinely frightened.

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know.”

Elias turned toward his security chief.

“Lock down the service exits. Nobody leaves without identification.”

Then he looked at Laurel.

“Did he say anything?”

She hesitated.

“He said he knew what happened to my mother.”

Elias closed his eyes briefly.

Laurel stared at him.

“You know something.”

“Laurel—”

“You know something about her.”

His silence was answer enough.

She stepped backward.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Before he could respond, June hurried toward them.

“There’s another problem.”

Laurel looked at her.

“What now?”

June held out her phone.

A security camera image filled the screen.

The footage showed someone entering the hotel’s restricted records room twenty minutes earlier.

The person wore a black evening dress.

Short blond hair.

Laurel’s exact hairstyle.

Her exact clothes.

And the person carried a black event tablet.

June whispered:

“Someone used your security credentials.”

Laurel stared.

“That’s impossible.”

Then the figure turned toward the camera.

The face was unmistakable.

Laurel’s face.

Or someone who looked exactly like her.

Elias leaned closer.

“That isn’t you.”

Laurel shook her head.

“No.”

But the timestamp showed something worse.

The person had entered the room at 7:42 p.m.

The exact moment Laurel had been confronting Preston beside the champagne tower.

Someone had been impersonating her.

And whoever it was had just stolen the hotel’s entire confidential donor database.

Laurel looked at Elias.

“Who would do this?”

He stared at the image.

Then whispered a name.

“Adriana.”

Laurel frowned.

“Who’s Adriana?”

Elias’s jaw tightened.

“My sister.”

And according to the official records, Adriana North had been missing for six years.

Read Part 4: Click here