Chapter 5
The metallic snap of handcuffs echoed against the glass walls of Julian’s office. Four federal marshals forced Chase facedown onto the hardwood floor, pinning his arms behind his back.
He didn’t fight them with physical force anymore; he fought with the frantic, spitting rage of an entitled man who had never faced a consequence in his entire life.
“Do you have any idea who I am?” Chase snarled, his cheek mashed against the polished oak floor, his bespoke suit gathering dust. “Ava, call them off! Call the commissioner! I built this city’s skyline with your father’s name! You can’t let these animals touch me!”
I didn’t move. I stood beside Julian, watching the spectacle with the absolute detachment of someone watching a venomous snake being locked inside an iron box.
“You didn’t build the skyline, Chase,” I said smoothly, my voice barely above a whisper, yet loud enough to silence his manic shouting. “You were just the clerk who signed the purchase orders. Take him away.”
The marshals hauled him to his feet. As they dragged him toward the elevator lobby, Chase’s eyes locked onto Sienna, who was slowly crawling out from beneath the conference table, trembling and weeping.
“You treacherous little bitch!” Chase screamed, lunging toward her before the agents yanked him back. “I gave you my wife’s jewelry! I put a penthouse in your name! You sold me out for immunity? You’re going to rot in the same cell block as me!”
Sienna shrank back, burying her face in her hands, her shoulders heaving with ragged sobs. The elevator chime rang out, the doors slid shut, and Chase’s hysterical threats were finally cut off by two inches of reinforced steel.
The office fell dead silent, save for the hum of the air ventilation and Sienna’s pathetic sniffling.
Julian turned to his lead investigator. “Coordinate with the United States Attorney’s Office in lower Manhattan. Deliver the encrypted flash drive, the Swiss non-disclosure agreements, and the toxicological records directly to Lead Prosecutor Vance. I want the bail hearing locked down with zero option for release. Chase has three private passports registered in the Caymans; he is the textbook definition of an international flight risk.”
“Right away, Mr. Vance,” the investigator said, gathering the hard drives into an evidence bag before swiftly exiting the room.
Julian walked over to Sienna. He looked down at her with the cold, sterile gaze of a surgeon preparing to amputate a necrotic limb.
“Get up, Ms. Vale,” Julian commanded.
Sienna scrambled to her feet, clutching her designer handbag like a shield against her chest. Her mascara had left dark, ugly streaks down her pale cheeks. “I... I gave you everything,” she choked out. “You promised I wouldn't go to prison.”
“I promised I wouldn't name you as a co-conspirator in the grand larceny civil suit,” Julian corrected, his tone razor-sharp. “The Southern District of New York, however, will still charge you with accessory to corporate fraud and tax evasion for accepting sixty-four thousand dollars in direct wire transfers from shell entities. You will plead guilty, you will surrender every gift, gown, handbag, and dollar Chase ever transferred to you, and you will testify as the state’s primary material witness.”
Sienna looked at me, her eyes pleading for a scrap of female solidarity, for mercy, for anything. “Ava... please. I didn't know about your father. I swear to God, Chase told me you two were already legally separated! He told me the TikTok wouldn't hurt anyone because you were moving to Paris!”
I walked slowly toward her, stopping only inches away. The cloying scent of her heavy vanilla perfume lingered in the air, but it no longer turned my stomach. It only reminded me of how cheaply Chase had sold his integrity.
“You stood in my private closet,” I said, looking directly into her wide, terrified eyes. “You touched my mother’s fur. You looked into the camera of your phone and smiled because you thought taking another woman’s life was an achievement. You didn't care if I was separated, broken, or dead. You wanted the crown, Sienna. But you forgot that crowns are heavy, and when they fall, they crush whoever is standing underneath.”
I gestured to the door.
“Get out of my sight before I change my mind and let Julian file the civil fraud suit after all.”
Sienna didn't say another word. She grabbed her coat, tripped over her own heels, and ran out of the office suite, leaving a trail of quiet sobs down the marble hallway.
When the outer doors clicked shut, Julian let out a long, controlled breath and loosened his dark tie. He walked to the bar cart, poured two fingers of amber bourbon into a crystal glass, and handed it to me.
“It’s over, Ava,” he said softly. “The board will hold an emergency vote at five p.m. to name you Interim Chairwoman and CEO of the Whitlock Corporation. The estate is secure.”
I looked down at the amber liquid, swirling it slowly against the glass.
“It’s not over, Julian,” I murmured, turning to the window overlooking the gray expanse of New York Harbor. “Chase was reckless, but he was never smart enough to orchestrate a Swiss toxicological cover-up on his own. He was twenty-eight years old when my father died. Someone inside the European banking syndicate financed the bribe to that Zurich clinic.”
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Julian’s eyes narrowed, his sharp legal instincts immediately snapping back into focus. “What are you saying?”
“Chase was the puppet,” I said, setting the untouched glass on the windowsill. “Someone else pulled the strings to get Chase into my father’s seat. And whoever that was... they are sitting on the Whitlock Board of Directors right now.”
