Chapter 13 - The Unraveling
Vance’s eyes darted frantically around the room, looking for his allies.
He caught the eye of Judge Sterling, who immediately looked down at his salad and turned his back. He looked toward his corporate board members, who were already slipping out through the side exits, hastily making phone calls to their crisis management firms. The Ironwood security contractors stood motionless, unwilling to engage federal marshals with loaded automatic rifles.
"This is an ambush!" Vance shouted, his voice cracking into high-pitched hysteria as the marshals closed in. "I built this city! You are all nothing without my capital! Sterling, tell them! Tell them who paid for your daughter’s campaign!"
Judge Sterling remained silent, his face pale as stone.
A marshal pushed Vance forward, pinning his arms behind his back. The sharp, mechanical click of handcuffs snapping onto Vance’s wrists echoed across the ballroom microphone, broadcasted live to millions of viewers who were tuning in as television networks hijacked their regular broadcasts to cover the live arrest.
As Vance was led down the stage steps, his path crossed Clara’s. His eyes burned with venomous rage, but Clara did not flinch. She looked down at him with neither hatred nor vengeance—only cold, sorrowful pity.
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"You were right about one thing, Carter," Clara whispered softly as he passed. "Leo will inherit an empire. But it won't be yours. It will be the foundation my father built, used to tear down every gilded cage you ever made."
Vance was dragged out through the front doors, the flashing red and blue lights of twenty federal cruisers illuminating his disgraced face as reporters swarmed like locusts.
