Chapter 4 - The Arrest at the CourthouseAt 8:00 AM the following morning, the sun rose over the majestic stone steps of the County Judicial Building in downtown Chicago.
Carter Vance stood at the top of the marble steps wearing his finest navy suit, carrying his leather briefcase, trying desperately to maintain his usual arrogant, untouchable posture. Beside him stood his uncle, Chief Prosecutor Thomas Vance—a fifty-eight-year-old man with silver hair and a proud, authoritative demeanor.
"Don't worry about it, Carter," Thomas said dismissively, adjusting his silk tie as they walked toward the heavy bronze doors. "So her father has some money. Big deal. Under state domestic laws, a husband cannot be held liable for an accidental slip in his own kitchen without physical witness testimony. My office will quash any preliminary investigation before it hits the magistrate's desk."
"Thanks, Uncle Thomas," Carter let out a nervous exhale, wiping sweat from his forehead. "The old man threatened me with federal operators, but I knew he was just putting on a show."
BOOM!
Three black armored Maybachs screeched to a halt at the base of the courthouse steps, blocking the main entrance completely.
Stepping out from the central vehicle, wearing an immaculate black suit, flanked by four federal process servers and three high-ranking state police captains, was Marcus Vance.
The morning crowd of attorneys, journalists, and court staff fell into an immediate, spellbound silence.
Thomas Vance frowned, stepping toward the stairs. "Marcus? What is the meaning of this disturbance?! This is a county court building!"
Marcus Vance didn't answer Thomas. He pulled a thick leather folder from his coat, reading the official state and federal warrants aloud into the morning air:
"By order of the Governor's Executive Office and the State Supreme Judicial Council, Carter Vance is hereby arrested for Aggravated Domestic Assault, Attempted Homicide of an Unborn Child, Witness Tampering, and Evidence Destruction!"
Carter dropped his leather briefcase. It hit the marble stairs with a loud, echoing CLACK.
"WHAT?!" Thomas Vance shouted, stepping in front of his nephew. "You can't arrest him! I am the Chief Prosecutor of this district! I haven't authorized any warrants!"
Marcus Vance raised his hazel eyes, looking at Thomas with cold, absolute disdain.
"You aren't the Chief Prosecutor anymore, Thomas," Marcus revealed flatly. "Ten minutes ago, the State Ethics Commission and the Attorney General's Office suspended your license following the discovery of forty million dollars in offshore bribe accounts managed by your nephew's firm."
Thomas Vance's face went paper-white. His hands trembled violently at his sides as two state troopers stepped forward, pinning his arms behind his back.
CLICK. CLICK.
Heavy steel handcuffs locked around Thomas Vance’s wrists.
Simultaneously, two broad-shouldered troopers grabbed Carter Vance, forcing him flat face-down onto the cold marble steps of the courthouse in front of dozens of news cameras flashing rapidly.
CLICK. CLICK.
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"UNCLE THOMAS! HELP ME!" Carter shrieked, his voice cracking into raspy, pathetic screams as his face was pressed against the stone. "TELL THEM IT'S A MISTAKE! CALL THE GOVERNOR!"
"The Governor personally signed the warrant, Carter," Marcus Vance promised softly, leaning down near his ear. "Mr. Harrison Sterling sends his regards."
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