“Ladies and gentlemen,” Malcolm Fotheringham announced, stepping up to the microphone. The applause was polite but hesitant. He looked powerful, the “Usurper” king addressing his subjects.
“Tonight marks a new era for Croft Enterprises,” Malcolm said, his voice booming. “We are trimming the fat. We are looking toward the future.”
But as he said the word “future,” his gaze drifted to the crowd. He saw them.
Standing near the front, bathed in the glow of the stage lights, was Isabella Moretti. She wasn’t looking at him with anger. She was holding her stomach, her eyes filled with tears.
Malcolm froze. The realization hit him harder than the vertigo. *She kept it.*
His heart hammered against his ribs. The stress spiked his blood pressure, and the “DNA Time Bomb” finally detonated.
The color drained from Malcolm’s face in a single second. He reached out for the podium, but his hand missed.
“Bella…” he whispered, the microphone catching the name.
Then, the CEO collapsed.
He hit the floor with a sickening thud. The room erupted in screams. Isabella broke through the crowd, rushing the stage, as the invincible mask of the Twin King shattered on live television.