Chapter 23 Who the hell are you, anyway?
A collective gasp rippled through the room. Guilt and panic flashed across Luana's face for a split second, before being replaced by pure hatred.
“Shut up!” Luana shouted desperately. “Since I'm the chairperson, I order you to... Ahhh!”
Her sentence was cut short by a cry of pain.
Before Luana could finish, Jessica lunged forward. With a quick, brutal movement, she grabbed a handful of Luana's perfectly brushed hair and pulled her head back, exposing her neck.
“Let her go! What are you doing?!” Luana's husband tried to rush forward to help her.
Without even looking at him, Jessica kicked a chair in his direction. The man, clumsy and panicked, tripped over the chair legs and fell face first onto the floor with a pathetic thud.
Jessica kept her grip on Luana's hair, forcing her to look at the screen where the news of the scandal still flashed. “What were you going to order, President?”
A few stray strands of hair stuck to the corner of Jessica's mouth, giving her a maniacal appearance. Her cold smile made the temperature in the room drop.
“Listen carefully, little sister. If it is proven that Mendes blood does not run through your veins, I will not only expel you from the company. I will banish you from the family and kick you out of this capital. You will become dust.”
Luana trembled, her scalp burning from the tug, but her pride spoke louder. She lifted her chin, trying to maintain her composure. “Go ahead! Put on your ridiculous little show. See if anyone cares about the hallucinations of a black sheep like you...”
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Three firm knocks on the door cut through the air, silencing the hysteria.
The door opened before anyone could give permission. An impeccable man, wearing an Italian-cut suit and carrying a leather briefcase, entered with the confidence of someone holding a nuclear bomb in his hands.
“Excuse me,” he said, his calm, professional voice echoing in the room. “I am the legal representative of Miss Jessica Mendes. I apologize for the interruption, but... irrefutable evidence has come to light.”
He placed a stack of documents on the conference table. The sound of paper hitting wood sounded like a gunshot.
“We have found hospital records and genetic compatibility tests. They indicate, with 99.9% certainty, that Ms. Luana Mendes has no biological connection to the late Mr. John Valadares. Her mother, Ms. Jhenifer Souza, appears to have omitted certain... crucial details.”
A murmur of shock exploded among the directors.
“What?!” Luana's husband staggered, pale as a ghost.
Luana stared at the papers, her eyes wide with terror. Her world collapsed in seconds. The shame, the judgmental looks, the end of her life of luxury... it all came crashing down on her at once.
“This is fake! It's forged!” she shouted, but her voice failed her. Without waiting for further humiliation, she grabbed her husband's hand and ran out of the room, knocking over anyone in front of her, fleeing like a rat caught in the light.
The room fell into stunned silence.
Jessica let go of the imaginary hair she was holding and turned slowly to the lawyer, her eyes half-closed in suspicion. “Who are you? I didn't hire anyone. Why are you helping me?”
The lawyer just smiled, an enigmatic and polished smile. “Miss Mendes, all your questions will be answered. Please follow me.”
Curiosity overcame her mistrust. Jessica followed him down the stairs to the building's exit.
Parked at the curb, a sleek and imposing black Bentley awaited.
The lawyer opened the back door with a bow. Jessica looked inside and her eyes widened in amazement.
On the leather seat, enveloped in an aura of elegance and mystery, sat Katherine. She slowly turned her face, her deep eyes analyzing Jessica with calculating interest.
Jessica frowned, her defensive posture returning instantly. “Why... you?”
Katherine patted the seat next to her twice. “Get in. Let's talk.”
Jessica didn't move. She put her hands in her jacket pockets, puffing out her chest. “If you have something to say, just say it. I don't get into strangers' cars.”
In the front seat, Adam, the driver/bodyguard, turned around impatiently. “Hey, girl. Our boss just saved your skin in there. What's your problem with this attitude?”
Jessica raised an eyebrow, letting out a dry, mocking laugh. “Boss?”
She turned her gaze back to Katherine, incredulous. “Who the hell are you, anyway?”
Katherine didn't flinch. With a fluid movement, she picked up an old photo between her long fingers and threw it toward Jessica.
The girl, with quick reflexes, caught the photo in midair. As she looked at the image, her mocking expression disappeared. A flash of recognition and pain crossed her eyes.
“Looks like you recognize her,” Katherine noted, her voice soft and velvety.
She leaned back on the bench, crossing her legs elegantly. “Let's get to the facts, Jessica. You've been assisting Professor Kawasisk in her experiments since you were seven. A little prodigy. When you returned to the Mendes at fifteen, you tried to reform the company, but your father rejected everything after the professor's suspicious death.”
Katherine paused dramatically, watching the tension grow in Jessica's shoulders. “Since then, you've worn this mask of rebellion, hung out with the scum of the city, and pretended you don't care. But in reality... you're using this facade to protect, all by yourself, the underground laboratory she left behind.”
Jessica stiffened. The air seemed to have been knocked out of her lungs. “If my guess is correct,” Katherine continued, “that lab was created by the Professor to hide something. A revolutionary medical experiment that was interrupted eighteen years ago. Am I right?”
Jessica's gaze darkened. She took a step forward, dangerous. “What do you want? Who told you this?”
Katherine smiled, but there was no mockery, only a sovereign calm. “Do you know the name Irene Campos?”
Jessica's palms instantly broke out in a cold sweat. That name was a legend, a ghost. “I know who she is. But what relevance does that have now?”
“I am her daughter.”