Chapter 8 - The Recorded Betrayal
The ballroom's high-end sound system hummed for two seconds before a clear, digital audio file began playing at maximum volume.
"Is the poison prepared?" Julian’s recorded voice echoed clearly through the hall.
The crowd gasped. Senator Vance stopped in his tracks, turning around to stare at the giant screen.
A second voice answered on the recording—a cold, clinical medical voice: "The compound is colorless and odorless, Mr. Moretti. It mimics sudden cardiac arrest within three minutes of ingestion. The toxicology will come back clean unless they run a full forensic screen on the liver."
"Good," Julian’s recorded voice continued, cold, arrogant, and completely devoid of warmth. "Dante trusts me blindly. He still thinks I'm his innocent little brother who cried in the fire ten years ago. Make sure the bartender puts it in his usual crystal glass."
The audio cut off into heavy, suffocating silence.
Julian stood frozen on stage, his mouth slightly open, his face completely pale as three hundred pairs of eyes stared at him in utter horror and disgust.
Reporters began snapping photos non-stop, the flashes blinding the stage like a storm of lightning.
"That... that is an AI voice clone!" Julian screamed, his voice cracking into high-pitched hysteria as he pointed a trembling finger at Elena. "She fabricated that recording! She's a spy working for the North Syndicate!"
Dante walked over to the podium, stepping between Julian and the microphone.
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"The recording was verified by federal forensic tech an hour ago, Julian," Dante said coldly. "And it wasn't recorded by a spy. It was recorded by the doctor you tried to pay off."
👉 What even darker truth about the mansion fire ten years ago is about to be revealed?
