He Hit Me at a Private Auction—Then I Sealed the Entire Museum “Father…” I pressed the phone to my ear. “Seal the building.” My voice was barely above a whisper.

Chapter 2: The Projection of Truth

"Bring up the displays," Mara ordered.

Instantly, the massive digital screens that usually displayed historical context for the artifacts flickered to life. Instead of Renaissance paintings or Roman history, the screens showed high-definition security footage.

The crowd gasped.

The footage on the screens wasn't from tonight. It was from three months ago. It showed Grant Holloway in a private booth at a downtown club, handing a thick envelope to a man everyone in the room recognized: Police Commissioner Davis.

Commissioner Davis, who was currently sweating through his tuxedo near the Egyptian exhibit, turned deathly pale.

"What is this?" Grant demanded, struggling against the guards holding him down.

"This is the foundation of your family's power," Mara said. She pointed a remote at the screens, and the footage shifted. Now, it showed Judge Carter—also in attendance—boarding a private jet owned by Holloway Industries, accompanied by two women who were definitely not his wife.

"You all thought tonight was an auction for charity," Mara addressed the room, her voice steady and commanding. "It wasn't. It was a net. And every single one of you swam right into it."

She walked over to the exhibit housing a priceless 18th-century royal tiara.

"For years, the Holloway family has used intimidation, bribery, and violence to control the East Coast," Mara said. "And Grant here thought he could treat me the same way he treats his father's employees. He thought he could lay his hands on me, and you would all just look the other way."