Chapter 3 - The Golden Child Falls
Chloe staggered backward as if I had physically struck her.
"You... you booby-trapped the logistics network?" Chloe stammered, her voice trembling. "That's corporate sabotage! I'll have you arrested! Officer, arrest her!"
Agent Vance didn't even blink. He pulled a second set of handcuffs from his belt.
"Actually, Ms. Sterling, the only person being arrested for corporate crimes regarding that software is you," the agent said.
"Me?" Chloe squeaked.
"When you terminated your sister and claimed her patents as your own, you signed federal trademark documents under penalty of perjury," Julian interjected smoothly, pulling a folded document from his tuxedo pocket. "You claimed you were the sole architect of the proprietary tech used to secure those illegal loans. Which makes you an accessory to eighty million dollars in federal wire fraud."
"No!" Chloe screamed, hyperventilating as two agents approached her. "No, I didn't know! Dad told me to sign it! I didn't know about the fraud!"
"Chloe, shut your mouth!" my father yelled from the table, his eyes wide with panic.
But Chloe was the golden child. She had never faced a single consequence in her entire life. Faced with the prospect of federal prison, her loyalty to our father evaporated in a millisecond.
"He made me do it!" Chloe sobbed, pointing a shaking finger at the man who had babied her for three decades. "He told me to fire Elena! He said she was asking too many questions! He promised me the COO title if I took the fall for the software! I'll testify against him! I'll tell you everything!"
My father stared at his favorite daughter, utter betrayal breaking across his face. The empire he had built on lies was eating itself alive right in front of him.
"You pathetic, ungrateful little brat," my father spat at her.
"Hands behind your back, ma'am," the agent commanded.
Chloe fought them. She thrashed and wailed, her expensive silk bridesmaid dress tearing at the seam as they forced her wrists behind her back. The metallic click of the cuffs finalized her ruin.
My mother collapsed to her knees on the marble floor, sobbing uncontrollably into her hands. The perfectly orchestrated, high-society wedding she had meticulously planned to show off her wealth had become the stage for her total, inescapable destruction.
"Elena," my mother wept, crawling toward the hem of my wedding gown. "Elena, please. Tell them to stop. We are your family. You're my daughter. Please, sweetie. You can't let them take your father and your sister."
I looked down at the woman who had spent my entire life looking through me. The woman who had told her country club friends I was in a psychiatric ward just to cover up my father’s crimes.
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I took a slow, deliberate step backward, pulling my white dress out of her reach.
"I'm an orphan," I said coldly.
