Chapter 5 - The Web TightensPanic erupted in the penthouse like a bomb going off.
Investors were shouting, demanding their capital back, threatening lawsuits, and rushing toward the elevators. Flashbulbs from hidden corporate reporters—tipped off anonymously by Arthur’s PR team—flashed blindingly from the back of the room.
Rachel broke down entirely, sobbing hysterically as she clutched her diamond necklace, realizing that her borrowed fairytale life had officially turned into a nightmare.
—Evelyn, please!— Rachel wailed, lunging forward to grab the hem of my pantsuit. —We were best friends! Twenty-six years! Don't do this! Michael forced me, he manipulated me—!
I looked down at her with cold, clinical indifference. I didn't kick her away, nor did I touch her. I simply stepped back, letting her fingers grasp empty air.
—Twenty-six years, Rachel,— I said quietly. —You sat at my wedding, you held my hand, and then you climbed into my bed while my signature was still wet on the marriage license. You didn't just break my heart; you tested my patience. And now, your lease is up.—
Before Rachel could reply, the heavy freight elevator doors chimed open behind us.
This time, it wasn't security guards or corporate reporters stepping out. It was a squad of federal financial crimes investigators from the U.S. Attorney’s Office, led by Agent Marcus Vance—Arthur’s cousin, who had spent months reviewing the offshore paper trail.
—Michael Lane? Rachel Hayes?— Agent Marcus called out, flashing his federal badge as he walked briskly across the stage. —You are both under federal indictment for corporate wire fraud, money laundering, and conspiracy to commit financial falsification. Turn around and place your hands behind your backs.—
Michael tried to protest, stammering about legal representation, but the federal agents didn't hesitate. The cold click of steel handcuffs echoed loudly through the penthouse—the exact same sound I had heard three years ago, but this time, the roles were entirely reversed.
As Michael and Rachel were dragged past me toward the elevators, their heads bowed in total disgrace, Michael managed one last desperate, venomous glare in my direction.
—You’ll never get a dime of the company back, Evelyn! The courts will tie it up in litigation for decades!— he screamed over the commotion.
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I smiled calmly, slipping my hands into my blazer pockets.
—Let them try, Michael. I’ve got all the time in the world.—
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