Chapter 2 - The Press Conference
Marcus loved the podium. He loved the flash of the cameras, the sea of reporters hanging onto his every word, the way the microphones bent toward him like flowers seeking the sun.
I stood in the back of the press room at City Hall, wearing a flawless beige trench coat and a pair of oversized dark sunglasses to hide the bruising on my cheek. Marcus looked magnificent. His hair was perfectly styled, his smile radiant. He was announcing his bid for the State Senate.
"This city needs a firm hand," Marcus boomed into the microphone, his voice echoing off the marble pillars. "It needs integrity. It needs a leader who doesn't back down from the hard choices!"
The crowd applauded. Marcus beamed. And then, the heavy double doors at the back of the room swung open.
It wasn't a quiet entrance. Two uniformed officers, flanked by FBI agents in windbreakers, marched down the center aisle. The reporters parted like the Red Sea. Marcus’s smile faltered, just for a fraction of a second, before the politician's mask slid back into place.
"Officers, if this could wait—" Marcus began.
"Marcus Vance," the lead agent barked, his voice cutting through the murmurs of the press. "You are under arrest for domestic battery, wire fraud, extortion, and tax evasion. You have the right to remain silent."
The room erupted. Flashbulbs went off in a blinding strobe effect. Marcus’s eyes darted frantically around the room, searching for a friendly face, searching for his fixers, searching for me.
May you like
His gaze found mine at the back of the room. I didn't smile. I didn't gloat. I slowly reached up and removed my sunglasses, letting the harsh fluorescent lights illuminate the dark purple bruise blooming across my cheekbone.
I saw the exact moment his world shattered. As they pulled his arms behind his back and the cold steel of the handcuffs clicked around his wrists, the untouchable king realized the queen had just flipped the board.
