The Dragon Ruler felt cold against my wrist as Chloe raised it. Her hand trembled, but her eyes held something harder than fear now. Determination mixed with bitter satisfaction.
"You brought this on yourself, Noah," she whispered.
The family formed a circle around us. Uncle Victor's breathing was heavy with anticipation. Aunt Margaret clutched her pearls. Liam leaned against the wall, grinning despite his swollen face.
"Wait," I said.
Old Mrs. Bennett's cane tapped once. "No delays."
"I have something to say first."
"You've said enough."
"Have I?" I looked directly at Chloe. "Because I think everyone here deserves to know the truth."
Chloe's grip on the ruler tightened. "The truth? You mean your lies?"
"No. I mean yours."
A murmur rippled through the room. Old Mrs. Bennett's eyes narrowed.
"What exactly are you implying, boy?"
"I'm not implying anything. I'm stating facts." I kept my voice steady. "Chloe has been cheating on me."
The room erupted. Gasps. Angry shouts. Uncle Victor stepped forward aggressively.
"How dare you—"
"With Ethan Pierce," I continued. "At the Meridian Hotel. Three nights ago."
Chloe's face went white. Then red. Then white again.
"That's a lie," she said.
"Is it?"
"Yes! You're making this up to—"
"To what? Get out of a beating? If I was going to lie, don't you think I'd come up with something better?"
Old Mrs. Bennett slammed her cane against the floor. "Enough! These are desperate fabrications from a desperate man."
"Are they, Grandmother?" I used the family term deliberately. It made her flinch. "Then call Ethan. Ask him where he was Tuesday night."
Silence fell over the room. Heavy. Suffocating.
Chloe still held the ruler, but her hand had stopped shaking. Now she looked calculating.
"You want to play this game?" she said quietly.
"It's not a game."
"Fine." She pulled out her phone. "Let's call Ethan right now."
My stomach dropped. She looked too confident. Too sure of herself.
The phone rang on speaker. Once. Twice.
"Chloe?" Ethan Pierce's smooth voice filled the room. "Everything alright? It's getting late."
"I'm fine. But I need you to clear something up for everyone here."
"Of course. What's going on?"
Chloe's eyes never left mine. "Noah is claiming that you and I had an affair. That we were together at the Meridian Hotel Tuesday night."
A pause. Then Ethan laughed. Rich, confident, dismissive.
"That's ridiculous. Tuesday night I was at the Pierce Foundation charity gala. Five hundred witnesses."
"And our meeting at the hotel?"
"What meeting? Chloe, I haven't seen you in weeks."
The room was spinning. This wasn't possible. I'd seen them. Followed them. Watched them go into that room together.
"You're lying," I said.
Ethan's voice turned cold. "Excuse me?"
"I saw you. Both of you. Room 1247."
"You saw nothing because nothing happened."
Old Mrs. Bennett was watching me with predatory satisfaction. "Continue this farce, Noah. Dig your grave deeper."
"But wait," Ethan said, his tone shifting. "This is interesting. Room 1247? That's very specific."
"Because I was there. I saw you."
"No, you weren't. Because Tuesday night, I was at the charity gala. But you know what's fascinating? Room 1247 is where Pierce Industries holds our monthly board meetings."
My blood turned to ice.
"And you know what else is interesting? I remember you now. The delivery driver who's been harassing my staff. The one who left that nasty review about our catering service."
"What review?"
"One star. Very angry. Very personal. Something about 'rich bastards who don't tip.' Ring any bells?"
The family was leaning forward now. Hungry for this new angle.
"I never wrote any review."
"Really? Because our security footage shows a delivery driver matching your description causing quite a scene in our lobby last month. Making threats about 'showing us what real service looks like.'"
This was impossible. None of this had happened.
"Owen," Ethan called out cheerfully. "Owen Murphy, are you there? I heard you might be."
Owen stepped forward reluctantly. His face was pale and sweaty.
"Yes, Mr. Pierce."
"Owen, you handle all the Ubereats contracts for this district, don't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"And you have access to driver records? Delivery histories? Customer complaints?"
Owen's voice was barely audible. "Yes, sir."
"Wonderful. Could you tell everyone here about Noah Lancaster's employment record? Specifically, any disciplinary actions or customer complaints?"
The trap was closing around me. I could feel it tightening like a noose.
Owen cleared his throat. "Well, there have been... incidents."
"What kind of incidents?"
"Complaints about attitude. Showing up late. Arguing with customers about tips."
Every word was a lie. But Owen was saying them with increasing confidence.
"And the review situation?" Ethan prompted.
"Several negative reviews. Very hostile language. Accusations against wealthy clients."
I stared at Owen. His nervous energy was gone now. He was speaking clearly, deliberately.
"You're both lying."
Ethan's laugh was warm and amused. "Am I? Owen, didn't Noah Lancaster receive a formal warning just last week?"
"Yes. For unprofessional conduct."
"And wasn't he scheduled for termination review?"
"This Friday, actually."
The Bennett family was eating this up. Uncle Victor was nodding sagely. Aunt Margaret was making disgusted sounds.
"So let me get this straight," Old Mrs. Bennett said. "You've been fired from your job for being unprofessional. You wrote nasty reviews about Mr. Pierce's company. And now you're accusing him of adultery with my granddaughter?"
"That's not—"
"It sounds like revenge," Liam said gleefully. "Poor little delivery boy got his feelings hurt by the rich man."
"That's exactly what it is," Ethan agreed. "Noah, I understand you're frustrated about your employment situation. But dragging innocent people into your personal vendettas is unacceptable."
Chloe was watching me with something like pity now. "Noah, why would you do this? Making up stories about Ethan and me?"
"I didn't make up anything."
"Then prove it," she said simply.
I opened my mouth. Closed it. What proof did I have? Photos? Video? Witnesses?
Nothing. I had nothing but my word.
"That's what I thought," Old Mrs. Bennett said triumphantly. "Owen, would you be willing to provide Mr. Pierce with documentation of this man's employment issues?"
"Of course, Mrs. Bennett."
"Excellent. We'll be filing a restraint order first thing Monday morning."
The walls were closing in. Every exit blocked. Every ally turned enemy.
"This is all fabricated," I said desperately.
"Is it?" Ethan's voice was getting sharper. "Owen, you have Noah's delivery records from Tuesday night, don't you?"
Owen nodded eagerly. "Multiple deliveries. All evening. He couldn't have been at any hotel."
"Wait," I said. "Tuesday night I wasn't even—"
"Working?" Owen interrupted. "Oh, but you were. Six deliveries between 7 PM and midnight. I have the GPS tracking data right here on my phone."
He was pulling out his phone now. Getting ready to show fabricated evidence that would seal my fate completely.
"Owen," Ethan said pleasantly, "would you mind sharing those delivery records with everyone? I think it would be very educational."