Humiliation and Revenge

Chapter Five

I was preparing to publish Humiliation and Revenge as a novella when I discovered I'd never finished the final chapter. Parts 1 and 2 appeared on Literotica March 21 and 28, 2025, with parts 3 and 4 appearing May 31 and June 17, 2025. To recap, John Jackson Latimer meets a quiet waitress in a rundown Seattle diner and instantly falls in love. But Emma is hesitant. Damaged from a devastating attack in her hometown months before. John marries Emma without telling her he's the 9th richest man in America. It's a happy match even as John sets out to get revenge on those who hurt her. Readers may wish to review the previous chapters for context. Now we find Emma and John preparing to renew their vows in a big wedding while her crew secretly plots to get revenge for a wronged woman. This final chapter has romance, mystery, humiliation, minor violence, strong friendships, and healing. If happy endings aren't your thing, you may wish to skip this. All characters are over 18 years old.

__________

Chapter Five

REVENGE AND RECONCILIATION

Emma, Janet, and a small security team entered the Lizzie Borden Art Gallery adjoining Mendacious Frontier College just after the morning opening. Unlike their previous visit, they were met with immediate attention.

"Mrs. Latimer. Mrs. Rawlings, this is a great honor," Gerta Rosenbaum gushed. The gallery director was in her mid-40s, tall and thin, with frizzy black hair and a deep-blue business suit.

"We have heard of your work here," Janet said, always a good public speaker. "As you may know, Emma and I are sponsoring local art galleries. It's hard to compete with the big cities."

"Yes, we've heard good things," Gerta acknowledged. "May I show you around?"

"It will be our pleasure," Janet agreed, declining to mention they had been there before. Gerta smiled, though she wondered why the recently revealed wife of Jackson John Latimer, America's Cinderella, hadn't spoken. As if something was bothering her.

Gerta gave them a tour of the gallery. The lobby was the usual admittance desk, maps, bookstore, and souvenir shop. There were two young women employees in yellow dresses and a security guard in a green uniform. Emma noticed Jimmy Hopkins had two of his detectives loitering as if they were visitors.

It was an old 1930s white stucco library with several large galleries, side rooms, and a media center. They came to the Alice Marbury exhibit at the mouth of the eastern wing. Two more employees were in the hall, hanging back while their director guided the conversation. Emma recognized Joyce Rogers and Melinda Stockman, the twenty-something false friends who had set Alice up. Joyce had become project manager with a large salary. Melinda was appointed events director with a hefty budget and room for kickbacks. This wasn't the time to confront them.

"This one got a lot of attention," Janet casually remarked, standing before the 4' x 8' obscene photograph.

The giant photo showed Alice on her back, naked, her legs spread, her face twisted in humiliation. On the adjoining walls were smaller portraits, paintings, and charcoal sketches. All of Alice.

"She's not a professional model?" Janet asked.

"No, that's what makes the images so real," Greta answered. "She was a parttime volunteer we caught off-guard, but all under contract. Her reactions are so genuine."

"Why is the model's name on the exhibit?" Emma asked. "None of the other nude exhibits provide the model's names."

"My assistants felt it would give the images more gravity," Greta explained.

"Someone must have really hated her," Emma observed, almost a question.

"Hated? Oh, no, Mrs. Latimer. This is about the art," Greta corrected. "It's cutting edge, inspiring deep emotions. We've been praised for our bold presentation. We may even win an award."

"We understand that," Janet confirmed. "And we have a proposal for you, if you'd like to take your experiment to the next level?"

"The next level?" Greta asked.

Forty minutes later, Greta and her staff were gathered in the conference room with Emma, Janet, Jimmy, and a new arrival, attorney Russell Fours, confident in his Cherokee heritage. Russell led the meeting.

"Your gallery is gathering national attention," Russell responded. "We have a concept for a new exhibit. It would be led by photographer Franchot Marquet, fashion designer Maggie Brundridge, and Academy Award winning cinematographer Jackson Polleni. It would require the cooperation of your gallery's entire organization."

Greta, Joyce, and Melinda were stunned. Three of the biggest names in their fields? Coming to their gallery? A special show? It would make their careers.

"What do you need?" Greta quickly asked.

"We are forming a limited corporation to manage the finances," Russell explained. "We will need complete access, and all of your employees will need to post bonds insuring their participation."

"Bonds?" Joyce said, finally speaking up.

"This exhibit will require millions of dollars in investment," Russell replied. "Any employee who fails in their obligations will pose a threat to the success of the project. We cannot allow that. If you would rather we take the project elsewhere, that can be accomplished. We have a gallery in Denver that is anxious to participate." Russell began gathering up his papers and stood up. Janet and Emma followed.

"No, wait!" Joyce said. "We'll cooperate. Fully. Won't we?"

Greta and Melinda nodded.

"These bonds carry severe penalties," Russel warned. "We'll need assurances from Mendacious Frontier College as well. We understand Dean David Rollins has the authority to speak for the school."

"Yes, David will be onboard," Greta assured him. "He has always supported our vision."

__________

"We have the date and the venue," Janet announced. "Time for your gown."

"What kind of gown?" Emma asked, sitting with her friend at the poolside Tiki bar.

"A wonderful gown. But we need to act before that baby bump becomes a balloon."

"I don't mind the bulge. Everyone already knows John and I are married. It's not a shotgun wedding."

"Who do you want in the wedding party?"

"You and Hanna, of course. All of John's friends. My co-workers from Marge's Diner. I'd say Wendy, but she'll be guarding me like a hawk."

"Your father and sister?" Janet asked. Emma hesitated.

"They should be invited," Emma eventually granted.

"Only invited? You don't want your father walking you down the aisle?"

"Jimmy Hopkins should walk me down the aisle if he's not too busy with security. As for Katy, maybe find her a seat in the back."

"Honey, do you trust me to take care of this?" Janet questioned.

"Of course. I know you'll give John and I a special day."

__________

It was a quiet Saturday night at the Latimer mansion. Two floors, six bedrooms, a chef's kitchen, library, his and her offices, and twenty acres of forest and meadows. John, Harry, and Janet were in the billiard room knocking the balls around.

"Is Emma excited about the wedding?" Harry asked. "We've been so busy at the office, I haven't seen her all week."

"I think so," John answered. "She's struggling to make up with her father. And Katy is a handful. I've never heard of two sisters being so different. And Emma has a new crusade. It's the biggest one yet."

"Feeling left behind?" Janet wondered.

"I wouldn't say that. I keep running out of time, too," he replied. "It's just that ..."

"Yes?" Janet pressed.

"Emma is 24. I'm 42. That's a lot of years."

"You're both in your prime," Harry declared.

"Johnny, Emma is totally in love with you. You don't need to worry," Janet assured him. "What's happening with Langsford?"

John frowned and struck the cue ball so hard it flew off the table. Harry caught it.

"Calm down, Johnny, it's going to be okay," he told his friend. Janet looked curious. Harry tried not to grin.

"The official instructions have been issued. We're reopening the factory," Harry answered. "Emma kind of insisted on it. But there are conditions."

"Firm conditions," John grouched, lining up for another shot. "It's a goddamned piece of shit relic. We'd make more money selling it off for scrap."

"And lose three hundred jobs," Harry mentioned.

"Jobs held by people who hurt Emma. Don't expect me to feel sorry for them," John replied.

"Jimmy's team finished their canvas of the town," Harry continued. "We already knew who was in the bar. Now we have social media telling us who knew about the plan and didn't warn Emma. None of them will be allowed to work at the factory. Others will have their stores and workplaces boycotted. Townspeople who violate the boycott will have their entire families banned. We're providing mortgage relief for those who didn't know about the plot."

"And foreclosing on those who did," John added. "Maybe I need to reopen the damn factory, that doesn't mean letting any of those fuckers off easy."

"Emma will be glad to hear this," Janet remarked. "You know she was worried about innocent people getting hurt."

"She's the only reason I'm doing this," John replied. "Langsford should get down on their knees and beg for her forgiveness."

There was a presence at the door. It was Emma, looking hopeful. She was wearing a black lace dress with a short skirt, white trim, a red collar, and high heels. Her long golden-brown hair was tied back in a ponytail.

"I found this online," Emma explained, holding up her arms and spinning around. "It's for our wedding. Isn't it great?"

That's not how her audience would describe it. No one spoke, at first.

"Honey, it's very nice, but maybe--" Janet started to say, trying to keep her tone calm.

"Oh, I know it needs a little work," Emma interrupted, flapping the long floppy sleeves. "These ruffles have a mind of their own. We can tie them down."

John and Harry were staring. It looked like something from a brothel, not a wedding catalog. They knew Emma was still new to a wealthy lifestyle, wondering how to say what they thought without offending her. Janet stepped forward, taking a closer look.

"You know, this might work," Janet suggested, adjusting the collar.

The men were stunned. "Janet, what the fuck?" Harry mumbled.

"The colors are nice," Janet insisted. "They set off her deep brown eyes."

Encouraged, Emma entered the room, the heels sinking deep into the lush red carpet, reaching the pool table.

"What do you think, John? There's going to be a lot of people at the ceremony," Emma said. "Your friends. My friends. Important guests. We want to make the right impression."

"Em, I know you like this. Maybe--" he began to reply.

Emma came around the edge of the table, then paused as if the skirt had gotten caught on something. She pulled. And pulled again. The skirt suddenly came loose.

"Oh, no," Emma exclaimed, revealed to be wearing black panties and garters underneath. She reached down for the skirt, only to have a sleeve tear off, taking part of the blouse with it. Her red bra was exposed. John gazed in fascination. Harry, too. Janet grabbed her husband's arm.

"Come on, Harry, this is our cue to disappear," she said, dragging her husband toward the hall. Emma looked up. Janet glanced back and winked as she closed the door.

"I don't understand," Emma complained. "The website gives this dress a six-year warranty. Against wind. Rain. Thunder."

She struggled to pull the sleeve back up only to have the other sleeve fall free. And then the bra popped open, her lovely round breasts spilling out.

"This is outrageous!" Emma exclaimed, covering up as she found herself topless. "They are going to get the worst Yelp review of all time!"

John couldn't hold back any longer. He charged forward, threw the loose garments aside, and yanked on the panties. They came free without an effort, coming apart in two pieces. All Emma had left were black stockings and high heels. John lifted Emma up on the pool table, finding his almost naked wife giggling with anticipation. She squirmed and laughed.

"You are a wild creature," he breathlessly whispered, loosening his belt.

"Careful of my dress, John. We'll need it for the wedding," she warned.

"Maybe for the honeymoon," he corrected, tugging at what remained of her clothes. His pants dropped to his ankles. Emma saw he was ready. More than ready. He was totally excited and enthralled.

"Just a minute," she urged, pushing him back. She slid down until her feet were on the floor, turned around, and bent over the table, presenting herself. John thought he might never breathe again and then got to work. Not hard. She was 14 weeks pregnant after all, and he had meticulously studied how this needed to work. It didn't stop him from taking her fully.

"More, husband. More," Emma urged, her fingers scratching at the green felt tabletop. She was lifting up. Pushing back. Wiggling as the ponytail bounced back and forth across her bares shoulders. John tried to hold back but couldn't. He'd never been so aroused. Emma bucked and raised her head as she felt him explode.

A few minutes later, they were sitting on the floor. John with his pants back up, his wife naked.

"You never fail to surprise me," John said, still catching his wind. Emma seemed very pleased with herself.

"In retrospect, I don't think that dress is going to work," Emma answered. "There is another one on the website that I like better."

"I'll like it better, too," John agreed.

__________

The Latimer party arrived at the Oregon courthouse early in the morning. County District Attorney Lyman Halsted III met them on the steps, a heavy man growing bald. Jimmy Hopkins went forward first, shaking hands.

Emma waited at the bottom with Janet, Katy, and Wendy. John and Harry reviewed notes before joining them.

"What's the status?" John asked.

"There have been complications," Halstead replied.

"Complications?" Harry said.

"Shyna Svoboda has disappeared. Without a trace. We have no sworn testimony from her. We can't proceed without a victim. And there's something else." His audience waited for him to continue. "There are ... discrepancies. Slight differences between the dancer who was on stage that night and later photos of Shyna. Subtle."

"What are you saying? There was a conspiracy? Two different women?" Jimmy asked, already knowing it was true. For he had organized it.

"I know it sounds crazy," Halstead admitted. "We may need to dismiss those charges, but charges from the earlier event against Emma are going forward. We have overwhelming eyewitness testimony."

"How did you get that?" Jimmy asked, again knowing the answer. Entrapping the witnesses and forcing them to testify had been a key objective of the operation.

"Once the arrests were made in the Svoboda case, the suspects were scrambling for plea bargains. We eventually acquired thirty sworn statements to pursue prosecutions in Mrs. Latimer's case," Halstead proudly revealed. "They support the photographs and videos that were posted on the internet."

"What cases have been resolved?" John inquired.

"Nearly all. Donna Livingston, the bar owner, is fighting the charges claiming there wasn't a valid search warrant. Brad Eastman, a key organizer, wants a jury trial. He's an idiot. And the prime mover, Samantha Stottlemyer, is claiming she didn't know the plot would result in sexual assault. She wants a jury trial, too, which will start in about an hour."

"Samantha was one of my closest friends in high school," Emma recalled. "The only reason I was at Donna's Landing that night was filling in for her as a waitress. She said she needed time to organize her wedding. And then her entire wedding party showed up at the bar while I was on stage. Naked and under attack. They were mocking me." Emma started to tear up. Janet went to hold her.

"What about my case?" Katy asked, stepping forward, a dark-haired 21-year-old with long legs and a terrific figure.

"Your case, Miss Coleman, has been dropped at the request of the victim," Halstead answered with a frown. "Which is too bad. You are front and center in every video urging the attackers on."

"Pardon me if I feel differently," Katy boldly said. "Yes, I wanted to humiliate my sister that night, but I never asked anyone to hurt her. I was one of sixty people in that audience all shouting the same things."

"And they all pleaded guilty to misdemeanors and restitution," Halstad replied. "What have you pleaded guilty to?"

"That's between me and Emma," Katy said, backing away.

They went up the stairs into the old county courthouse, John and the men going to converse with the bailiff. Janet and Emma waited in the portico seeing flags, portraits of distinguished judges, and framed documents. Harry called Janet over, discussing seating in the courtroom.

Suddenly, a familiar voice called Emma's name as a well-dressed woman burst from behind a pillar. It was Samantha Stottlemyer. Emma didn't know she was out on bail.

"You bitch! You destroyed my life!" Samantha shouted, coming closer.

"All I did was try to help you," Emma answered. "The court will decide if you're guilty of planning the attack."

"I planned to humiliate you, like you humiliated us when you ran off to New York and became too good for us," Samantha said.

"It was never like that," Emma protested. "I worked hard. Studied hard for a scholarship. My father isn't a banker like your father."

"My father's reputation is ruined. My husband has a criminal record that will follow him everywhere," Samantha replied. "Now you're going to pay."

Before Emma realized it, Samantha was charging at her. Was she holding a knife? She was! Emma put up her arms, trapped against the wall. Unable to flee. Her enemy closed in. The knife was aimed at her belly. Emma tried to scream but couldn't make a sound

There was a blur of motion. Someone had jumped in front of Samantha. Wrestling with her. Fighting furiously. Grunts. Groans. A shriek of frustration. A gush of blood sprayed Emma's face. It was Katy, stabbed at least once, fending Samantha off with everything she had. And then Wendy waded into the fray, the petite bodyguard putting Samantha down with a bone crunching slam.

As Katy fell to the tile floor, security was quickly everywhere. Jimmy put Samantha in handcuffs. Wendy rushed to Katy's side. She'd been wounded in the right arm just below the elbow, her sleeve soaked in red.

"That was so brave," Wendy said, quickly wrapping Katy's injuries. And then she kissed her full on the lips. Katy made no effort to discourage her.

"It's nothing you wouldn't have done," Katy said with a pained smile.

"I wouldn't have gotten cut. We'll need to give you better training," Wendy offered.

Emma rushed to kneel on the other side, staring in amazement.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"It's nothing. Just a scratch," Katy replied.

"You saved me. You saved my baby," Emma realized.

"I promised to be a better sister," Katy reminded her.

"I love you, Katy. I always have," Emma said, hugging her. Katy was crying, and it wasn't because of the injury.

Cops arrived, taking in the scene. Samantha was arrested, likely to spend many years in a jail cell. The attack was recorded on the courthouse security cameras.

"Flesh wound. We'll get you to a clinic," Jimmy Hopkins concluded, helping Katy to her feet.

"How did I do, Mr. Hopkins?" Katy hopefully asked.

"You came through like a trooper, Miss Coleman," Jimmy answered. "It won't be forgotten."

__________

Emma met with her father, sister, Jimmy Hopkins, and Wendy. Katy's arm was lightly held in a sling. They were sitting around the pool on an early spring day two weeks before the big wedding.

"Do you want to help?" Emma asked.

"With the wedding?" Melvin replied, perking up. For he feared to be excluded.

"No, this question is for Katy," Emma clarified. "Do you want to help with Project Mendacious? My team is getting revenge for a wronged woman. It's a sophisticated operation."

"Yes!" Katy immediately agreed. "Tell me what you need."

Jimmy and Wendy nodded, the offer having been discussed beforehand.

"Alice Marbury was horribly wronged by women who were supposed to be her friends," Emma recounted. "They made her pose nude for an art class and then posted obscene pictures of her in an art gallery, advancing their careers while stealing Alice's dreams. We are going to give Alice her life back by destroying them."

Katy's eyes lit up. Almost joyful. Eager. Wendy noticed.

__________

The gathering outside the Lizzie Bordon Gallery was large as the grand opening approached. The patrons, independent vendors, and the press were excited. Colorful banners announced new works by Marquet, Brundridge, and Polleni, icons in their fields. Greta Rosenbaum and Dean David Roberts basked in the attention, the biggest event Mendacious Frontier College had ever sponsored. Behind the scenes, where several large halls were curtained off, Emma noticed Alice Marbury's photos had been taken down. They would never be seen again.

Greta assembled her staff in the marble foyer. Joyce Rogers, Melinda Stockman, and Eric Tempelton were intrigued by the hectic activity. They didn't recognize Emma's father coordinating the construction crews. They did recognize Jimmy Hopkins in charge of security. There were several lawyers. Katy rushed up wearing a blue gallery baseball cap carrying a clipboard. They noticed she was young, cheerful, and filled with vivacious energy.

"Everything is so mysterious. We haven't been allowed inside all week," Gerta said.

"The exhibits will open in an hour," Katy announced, her blue eyes mischievous. "I am the event coordinator. Each of you will have an important role. It's going to be so much fun!"

"Wait a minute. Aren't you Katy Colman? I saw Farranti Decant's photo spread in Fashion Today," Melinda recognized. "You were totally nude. Riding a horse."

"And a motorcycle," Eric added.

"Yes, Mr. Decant and I are close friends," Katy exaggerated. "I'm doing another set with him in the fall. In Paris. I'll be naked at the Eiffel Tower."

That was true. To everyone's surprise, Decant had been so impressed by Katy's confidence that he offered her a paying gig. Other proposals were coming in. Her father wouldn't need to worry about supporting his wayward daughter after all. Greta, Joyce, and Melinda were impressed. Eric was drooling, undressing Katy with his eyes.

"My father, Melvin Coleman, has prepared each of the new presentations according to the designer's specifications," Katy mentioned. "Our attorneys, Mr. Russell Fours, Gregg Jenkins, and Jason Longborn are available for consultation. They wrote your contracts and can answer any questions."

"Lawyers?" Joyce questioned. Did she recall the contract she had made Alice Marbury sign? If so, it was too late. Just as Emma planned.

Katy drew Melinda Stockman forward first, going to the rear hall and slipping through the heavy curtain. Workers were just finishing adjustments under the direction of photographer Franchot Marquet. He was demanding, missing no details. Melinda saw the sign; Martyred Heroines. There was an impressive backdrop of a French mediaeval town, and a courtyard, created with sophisticated AI imagery. In the foreground, a crowd of hologram soldiers, priests, and peasants surrounded a tall, plastered pillar. Beneath the pillar, men in gray woolen tunics were stacking firewood.

"You are just in time," Marquet impatiently said. "Strip and take your position on the pyre."

"Strip?" Melinda said, trying to back away.

"That is the scene. The martyrdom of Joan of Arc. You will be tied naked to the stake and burned for heresy while taunted by a fickle mob."

"Naked!" Melinda shouted.

"Yes, our heroine in her purist form, as God made her," Marquet explained. "Joan's unblemished spirit defying her enemies to her final breath."

"I'm not stripping. I'm not going up there," Melinda rejected. Katy stepped up, Gregg Jenkins at her elbow.

"You signed a contract," Katy gleefully insisted.

"No. No, I--"

"Miss Stockman, you committed to this project," Jenkins said, displaying the document. "You will fulfil your obligation or forfeit your $250,000 bond. And the college will forfeit their $20,000,000 guarantee, which will make you unemployable at any other institution. Shall we summon Dean Roberts?"

Melinda looked at the notarized document knowing it was enforceable. She had helped craft Alice Marbury's contract under Joyce's guidance. She began removing her clothes, eagerly collected by Katy. Her blue jacket and skirt. High heels. Blouse. Soon down to stockings, a bra, and her panties.

"All of it. Everything," Katy demanded.

Melinda complied, standing nude before the smirking woman, the lawyer, the artist, and a dozen workers. One was Melvin Coleman, hardly able to believe what he was seeing. Melinda had never felt so humiliated, trying to cover with her hands. At Marquet's direction, she mounted the pyre assembled three feet off the ground, finding herself tied naked to the pole with rough rope. On full display. Her thin blonde hair, small breasts, trim waist, and skinny legs. Marquet experimented with artificial flames, turning them up and down in waves of red, black, and yellow. They lapped ferociously around their helpless subject as gray smoke curled to the ceiling, the terrifying sounds of the crackling timbers filling the hall. The large crowd, two hundred strong generated by AI projections, cheered the torment of their heretic victim. The scene was visually stunning, evoking strong emotions.

"Please, I don't want to do this," Melinda begged, struggling against the ropes.

"Do you want to violate your contract?" Katy asked, standing so close that her breath was on Melinda's face. "You didn't let Alice Marbury violate her contract, did you? You humiliated her. Destroyed her life for your personal advancement."

Melinda fell silent. She wasn't stupid, realizing the trap that had been laid. She cursed the day she had listened to Joyce's shameful scheme.

"How long must I be here?" Melinda conceded.

"Six hours this afternoon, eight hours Saturday, and six hours Sunday," Katy answered. "Now relax while we let the photographers complete the publicity photos. We want you up on the website as soon as possible."

Leaving Melinda to her unexpected fate, Katy jauntily returned to the foyer where Greta, Joyce, and Eric were waiting. Emma and Janet saw Katy was in her element. Charged with an infectious enthusiasm. They offered their unspoken question. Katy gave a thumbs up, waving for clueless Joyce to follow.

Joyce Rogers was shocked as she entered the second hall, still curtained off. The Hall of Classic Cinema. There was a New York theater stage, a restless AI audience in the seating, and a giant ape. King Kong. With an open hand awaiting a victim.

"Strip and enter Kong's reach," Jackson Polleni required, proud of his elaborately detailed set.

"Strip? I'm not taking off my clothes!" Joyce protested.

Jason Longborn stepped forward, the signed contract ready. "You will fulfil your obligations or be found in violation of this agreement. We have agents standing by to confiscate your condo, your bank accounts, and we will attach all future earnings in the amount of $550,000."

Joyce looked the contract over in panic. It was nearly identical to the one she had tricked Alice Marbury into signing though with far harsher penalties. She had never imagined how the conditions might be applied. She looked at Longborn, then Katy Coleman, and noticed Emma Latimer and Janet Rawlings watching from the wings. Though Joyce hated the idea of complying, she didn't see a choice, not wanting to spend the next twenty years rebuilding her career. She began to disrobe. The gallery uniform went first, then the expensive shoes, pausing at her underwear.

"All of it," Katy ordered, leaning in. "Just like you did to Alice Marbury."

Joyce caught her breath, finally realizing what this was all about. And seeing the powerful forces arrayed against her. The underwear was removed, stuffed into a plastic bag.

"This way," Polleni instructed, taking their naked victim onstage. The animatronic King Kong was ferociously realistic. Huge, hairy, and powerful. She was moved into the outreached hand, and suddenly, the fingers closed, clutching her waist with terrible strength. Her large boobs were visible above, her waxed womanhood on display down below. The arm rose up, lifting her above the stage. Moving her back and forth as Kong roared in defiance. Joyce could wave her arms and kick her legs but could not cover herself. Movie cameras were recording everything.

"Scream," Polleni said. "Show the spectators your terror."

"Spectators?" Joyce asked.

"There will be hundreds of exclusive patrons this afternoon, thousands on Saturday, and more for the Sunday matinee. My assistants have lozenges for your throat. Now scream!"

Polleni continued crafting the scene he wanted. The intricate theater lighting. The startled AI audience, dressed in 1930s fashions, reacted to Kong's rage as he waved his naked captive back and forth. It was a triumph of mixed media. The avengers retired, knowing the opening was approaching.

Eric Templeton proved no better off, starring in the Hall of Mythology as Atlas. He was stripped naked, chained to a platform, and sentenced to holding up the world. Maggie Brundridge could adjust the weight, making his muscles strain. With both hands supporting the ancient globe, there was no way to cover anything. Photographers were taking shots from every angle. It was embarrassing but better than losing his Ferrari to vicious lawyers.

Emma, Janet, and Katy found Greta still in the foyer with Russell Fours and Dean Roberts. Greta looked confused, wondering where her assistants had gone.

"We still have one exhibit to fill," Emma announced. "This one will feature Mrs. Rosenbaum."

All three lawyers had returned, Fours leading the group. They went to the hall where controversial pictures of a young woman were once proudly on display.

"Do you remember Alice Marbury?" Emma asked, causing Greta to flinch.

"She was a student volunteer. We assembled a groundbreaking exhibition around her," Greta confessed.

"You conspired with Joyce Rogers, Melinda Stockman, and Eric Tempelton to coerce her into an obscene photoshoot, exploited her humiliation, and when she protested, Dean Roberts took away her scholarship," Emma clarified. "And now you are going to pay for that."

Greta and Roberts exchanged a startled glance. "What are you talking about?"

Emma led Greta to the section where Alice's photos had been displayed. It appeared to be a doctor's office featuring white walls, an overhead spot lamp, and a table with stirrups. Five hologram physicians and nurses surrounded the table under bright lighting. One figure was not a hologram: he was a tall hulking man in a doctor's smock with a thick beard and black eyes. He looked like Rasputin. Katy took control.

"This is the Hall of Women's Health," Katy explained. "You will strip, mount yourself for a gynecological examination, and remain here throughout the exhibit. Your procedure will be available for public viewing on the big screens." Greta looked up to see a dozen large monitors mounted everywhere. "Dr. Krause-Meyer will insure your examination is thorough."

Greta looked at the stirrups, placed wide apart, and imagined herself being gawked at by thousands of gallery patrons.

"I will do no such thing. Nothing you can do will make me," Greta declared.

Russell Fours stepped up, presenting her contract. A million dollars in penalties. Greta took a long glance, tore the document in half, and marched out of the hall never to return.

"Mr. Roberts, it appears Mendacious Frontier College is in breach of contract," Fours remarked. "We will wait until the exhibit concludes before pursuing litigation. The school did commit to a $25,000,000 security."

"$25,000,000? We don't have that kind of money," Roberts lamented.

"Maybe you should have thought of that before robbing Alice Marbury of her dignity and education?" Emma said, getting in his face. Roberts paused, finally sensing how badly he had misjudged the situation. He didn't know what to say.

"There might be a compromise," Fours suggested.

"And that would be?" Roberts asked.

"$4,000,000 in restitution to Miss Alice Marbury and granting our organization a voting majority on the Mendacious College Board of Governors."

"The Board of Governors?" Roberts questioned.

"We believe the college's resources can be better managed," Russell clarified.

"Is that what this is all about? Taking control of my school?" Roberts asked.

"No," Emma answered. "Getting control of this foul institution is just a byproduct. The goal has been to destroy your disgusting nest of vicious vipers."

The gallery doors opened to great fanfare, excited crowds pouring in to view the new exhibits. Cameras ready. Many would be storming the gift shop on the way out where new products were being unveiled. Professional quality photos. Books. Posters. Calendars. Alice Marbury was first in line.

"Thank you, Emma. Thank you so much," Alice said, tears filling her eyes. "And you, Katy. You are so wonderful."

"You have old friends waiting for you," Emma said, pointing to the galleries with a gentle smile. "Be sure to congratulate them on their performances."

As Alice rushed off, Katy took hold of Emma's hands, also close to tears.

"This was amazing. I never knew helping others could feel like this," she gushed. "Thank you for letting me be part of it."

"You've done well, little sister. And with a baby coming, I need to step back for a time," Emma replied. "Are you interested in carrying on my work?"

"Getting revenge for wronged women? It's the chance of a lifetime," Katy eagerly agreed.

They hugged.

__________

Emma looked at the guest list for the Wally Funk Country Club, the finest in Seattle. Eight hundred guests. Eight hundred? She only knew about thirty, mostly from Marge's Diner where she was working when she met John. The governor was there. A congresswoman. Both United States senators. A legion of prominent men and women from across the country. The press was limited but not excluded. John wanted the whole world to see his lovely bride.

"I never imagined this," Melvin said, finding his daughter being fitted in her flowing white wedding gown. "I never asked. How much did you pay to have those famous artists take over the Lizzie Borden Gallery? It must have cost a fortune."

"It was fairly nominal," Emma answered.

"Nominal?"

Emma pointed. There was Maggie Brundridge finishing the final touches on her wedding dress. Out the window, they saw Jackson Polleni's crew arranging the park for the ceremony. Franchot Marquet was the event's official photographer.

"Apparently this is the biggest social event of the year," Emma explained. "Magazines. Cable interviews. Industry bragging points. Everyone wants to be part of it. Those artists did me a favor, now I'm doing favors for them."

Melvin took a moment to study the shy scholarly daughter who had grown up reading books at the fireside in Langsford. She had learned to work the system in a very powerful way. The baby bump was beginning to show and Brundridge's design made no effort to hide it.

"I'm proud of you, dear," he said, pecking her on the cheek before leaving. Janet entered.

"Everything is going great," she reported.

"You've done so much work," Emma mentioned. "Both you and Harry."

"And worth every moment."

With the gown completed, they left the preparation room, going down to the first floor where they could see the park, some of it overlapping the 18th hole of the golf course. There was a blue lake, tall pine trees, green grass, rose gardens, and a gazebo. The guests were settling into their seats as a live band played.

"It's so beautiful," Emma gasped. "Like in a fairytale."

"Very appropriate. You are, after all, America's Cinderella," Janet replied.

"Do I look okay? I must be perfect for John."

"No bride has ever been so beautiful," Janet assured her.

Emma peeked through the door seeing the vast audience. Her sister Katy was not sitting in the back row. She was a bride's maid. Along with John's sisters. His mother and family were in the front row. Jimmy Hopkins was not preparing to walk her down the aisle. It was her father in a new charcoal gray suit and a carnation in his lapel.

"You said to let me make the decisions," Janet recalled.

"I certainly did," Emma replied. "Just so you know, if I have a daughter, I'm going to name her after you. And if I have two daughters, I'll name both of them after you."

Emma was crying. Janet dabbed her cheeks with a handkerchief. "Now, now, none of that. We can't have you ruining your makeup so close to the ceremony."

"How can I ever thank you?"

"Honey, you are the little sister I've always dreamed of. Brave, and funny, and caring. We're family. We're beyond thank you," Janet answered. They squeezed hands and Janet went to join the other bridesmaids. The band was getting ready to play the 'Wedding March'. Wendy appeared out of nowhere. She was dressed like a flower girl. Emma had no doubt there was a weapon hidden in her seagrass flower basket.

"Don't worry, if anyone makes a move on you, I'll take them down so fast no one will ever notice," Wendy confidently reported.

"Have you seduced my sister yet?" Emma asked.

"Yes, but don't worry. Katy's not gay, only flexible." Emma laughed.

It was time. Emma stepped out where her father took her arm.

"Sweetheart, this is the finest moment of my life," he whispered.

"We had a few rough moments, Dad, but we're past that now. You need to move into the mansion. Hanna will need help with your grandchildren."

"I'll be a better grandfather than I ever was a father," Melvin promised.

The audience rose as they walked toward the gazebo where John, Harry, Janet, and the wedding party were waiting. John's eyes shone with immeasurable pride. Emma reached the platform, Melvin releasing her hand. John quickly took it.

"We've come so far this last year," he said. "I love you so much. You've changed my life."

"I'm about to change it a lot more, dearest," Emma warned. John gazed at her with the question. The entire party was watching, even the minister.

"I have a surprise," Emma said with a wonderful glint in her eyes.

"Yes?" John wondered.

"The baby," Emma confided. "We're having twins."

The end, for now

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