Chapter 9 - The Downfall
The front door was kicked open by tactical officers. Red laser sights cut through the darkness, all centering on Marcus’s chest.
"Hands in the air! Do not move!" the lead officer bellowed.
Marcus, nursing his broken collarbone, fell flat on his stomach, sobbing hysterically as handcuffs were ratcheted tightly around his wrists.
Detective Ramirez stepped into the house, holstering his weapon. He looked at Marcus writhing on the floor, then at me, standing perfectly calm in the center of the room.
"You handled yourself well, Petty Officer," Ramirez said with a grim smile.
"Just taking out the trash, Detective," I replied.
They dragged Marcus out into the snow. The neighbors were awake, standing on their porches in their bathrobes, watching the wealthy, arrogant Marcus Sterling being thrown into the back of a police cruiser like a common criminal.
The next 72 hours were a blur of legal victories.
Marcus was denied bail. The judge, horrified by the photos of Leo's bruises and the audio recordings, deemed him a massive flight risk. He was remanded to county jail to await federal trial. His cousin David took a plea deal, agreeing to testify against Marcus in exchange for a lighter sentence.
The twins were placed in the temporary custody of their biological mother, who had been fighting Marcus in family court for years. With Marcus’s funds gone, his high-priced lawyers abandoned him, leaving him with an overworked public defender.
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Arthur Vance finalized the trust paperwork. The Sterling empire was now legally the Leo Foundation, entirely under my control.
I sold the house in the suburbs immediately. I could never let Leo sleep in a house that contained that freezing cellar. We bought a beautiful, sunlit property closer to the naval base, surrounded by trees and warmth.
