Chapter 3 - The Purge of the Manhattan PenthouseAt 9:00 AM the following morning, the fifty-story glass tower of Black Capital Headquarters on Fifth Avenue in Manhattan was in total, historic upheaval.
Inside the grand penthouse suite registered under Sophia Lane’s name, Sophia stood beside two open leather trunks, wearing a silk robe, furiously stuffing gold jewelry, designer bags, and bearer bonds into her luggage.
"Tell the private jet pilot to turn the engines on!" Sophia shrieked into her phone. "Ethan’s wife survived! He’s back in New York and his security team isn't answering my calls!"
BOOM!
The heavy double glass doors of the penthouse were thrown open with a violent impact!
Walking down the central marble foyer, flanked by Marcus Vance and four federal marshals, was me.
I wore a fresh dark suit, my broad frame squared, my face hollowed out by grief, my dark eyes burning with a terrifying, apocalyptic fire that dropped the room's temperature to absolute zero.
Behind us walked Bridget Colton and a team of federal forensic accountants.
Sophia dropped her phone onto the plush rug. A manipulative, sweet smile instantly appeared on her face as she hurried across the floor, reaching her hands out toward my chest.
"Ethan, darling!" Sophia cried, her eyes filling with fake tears. "Thank God you're back! The news reports are saying terrible things! I was so worried about your wife—"
CLACK!
I didn't touch her. I held up my hand, stopping her two feet away as if she were a radioactive hazard.
"Marcus," I said, my baritone smooth as silk and cold as winter ice. "Execute the warrant."
Marcus Vance stepped forward, sliding a stack of court-stamped legal notices flat into Sophia’s trembling hands:
IMMEDIATE EVICTION: Revocation of all commercial leases and residential titles registered under Sophia Lane.
CORPORATE SEIZURE: Freezing of all bank accounts linked to Donald Lane and her fashion label due to $14.2 million in embezzled capital.
CRIMINAL ARREST WARRANTS: Federal warrants served on Donald Lane and Sophia Lane for Corporate Wire Fraud, Interstate Money Laundering, and Extortion.
Sophia’s manicured fingers shook furiously. Her face went from practiced sadness to an ugly, paper-white mask of rage.
"ETHAN! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!" Sophia screamed, thrashing as two uniformed federal officers stepped forward with heavy steel handcuffs. "YOU GAVE ME THAT BRACELET! YOU LOVED ME!"
"I gave you eighty-six thousand dollars of my wife's money while she was freezing under an avalanche, Sophia," I answered, looking down at her with an absolute, clean, weightless disgust. "Now you can spend the next twenty years reflecting on it in a federal cell."
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Sophia thrashed and shrieked hysterical, groveling pleas as marshals dragged her and her father out of the Fifth Avenue penthouse in total, public disgrace, surrounded by news crews capturing their complete downfall for the afternoon news.
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