Chapter 6 - The Trap is Sprung
Beatrice’s face turned the color of wet ash as she stared down at the broken crystal and splashing champagne around her designer heels. Richard pushed his way through the crowd of stunned socialites, his ankle monitor bulging visibly beneath the cuff of his tailored tuxedo trousers.
"What the hell did you just say to my mother?" Richard snarled, stepping into my personal space, his fists clenching at his sides as his arrogant temper flared in public. "I told you to stay away from my family, Margaret! I will have my security team throw you out into the street!"
"You don't have a security team anymore, Richard," I said calmly, pulling a folded legal document from my clutch purse and tapping it against his chest. "And as of ten minutes ago, you no longer have a board of directors. The governing board of Vance Commercial Development held an emergency vote this afternoon after reviewing the forensic audit of your trust fund embezzlement."
Richard grabbed the paper, his eyes frantically scanning the text as his breathing turned ragged and shallow.
"You have been unanimously stripped of your title as Chief Executive Officer," I continued, ensuring every prominent business leader in the ballroom heard every single syllable. "Your corporate access cards have been deactivated, your company vehicles have been impounded, and your business accounts have been placed under federal receivership pending a RICO fraud investigation."
"You... you destroyed my company!" Richard screamed, completely losing his composure as he crumpled the paper in his hands and lunged forward toward Juliana. "You ruined my life!"
He never reached her. In a flash of synchronized movement, Samuel’s two Force Recon specialists stepped forward, catching Richard by the shoulders and effortlessly pinning his arms behind his back with defensive leverage that made him groan in pain.
"Richard Vance," a new voice boomed from the entrance of the ballroom.
We turned to see Lieutenant Miller, accompanied by six uniformed police officers and two federal agents in dark suits, marching through the crowd. Miller walked straight up to Richard, pulling a pair of heavy steel handcuffs from his belt.
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"Richard Vance, your bail is officially revoked due to witness intimidation and violation of a protective order," Lieutenant Miller stated, snapping the irons onto Richard’s wrists for the second time that week. "And Beatrice Vance, you are under federal arrest for conspiracy to commit wire fraud, money laundering, and suspicion of first-degree murder in the death of Arthur Vance Senior. You have the right to remain silent."
As the police led the screaming mother and son out of the ballroom in handcuffs before the flashing cell phone cameras of Atlanta’s elite, Juliana looked at me and took a deep, liberating breath. The regime of terror was officially over.
