Chapter 8 - The Clean Sweep
The double doors of the Aero Club burst open, and six uniformed police officers, accompanied by federal investigators, marched into the room. Marcus led them straight to Daniel and Vanessa.
"Daniel Brooks, Vanessa Montgomery, you are under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder, corporate fraud, and grand larceny," the lead detective announced, pulling out the steel handcuffs.
"Julian, please!" Vanessa shrieked as the cold metal clicked around her manicured wrists. She tried to lunge toward me, her scarlet dress tearing slightly at the seam. "It was Daniel! He planned the whole thing! He told me your car was unsafe! I loved you, Julian! I was just confused! I was grieving!"
"Save it for the grand jury, Vanessa," I said, not even looking at her as she was dragged out, her screams echoing down the elevator shaft.
Daniel didn't say a word. He looked like a man who had already accepted his death sentence, his head hanging low as the officers marched him away in front of the very competitors he had hoped to impress.
Uncle Martin, who had been sitting quietly at the far end of the table hoping to go unnoticed, slowly stood up, smoothing his tie. "Well, Julian... a masterful performance. Truly. I always knew you had your father’s iron will. If you need any assistance stabilizing the board tomorrow—"
"Tomorrow morning at eight o'clock, Uncle Martin," I interrupted, my voice dropping to a freezing register, "the compliance committee will be reviewing your personal expense accounts for the last five years. I believe you’ll find that the corporate jets and villa rentals you charged to the company are no longer authorized. You have until noon tomorrow to resign from the board, or I will file civil recovery charges against you."
Martin’s face went pale, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He quickly grabbed his coat and hurried out of the room without another word.
The remaining guests—the socialites, the partners, the fair-weather friends—all stood up, offering awkward, terrified congratulations, trying to salvage their relationships with the man who had just proven himself to be completely untouchable.
"Get them out, Marcus," I commanded quietly. "The party is over."
Within ten minutes, the grand dining room was empty, save for the catering staff nervously clearing the tables, Marcus standing guard at the door, and Clara.
Clara stood near the window, the city lights reflecting off her midnight-blue dress. She looked exhausted from the sheer emotional weight of the evening, but as I walked over to her—fully stable, without a hint of a limp—she looked up at me with a brilliant, breathless smile.
"You did it," she whispered. "You really did it, Julian."
"We did it," I corrected, gently taking both of her hands in mine. Her skin was soft, a warm contrast to the cold glass and steel surrounding us. "Without you, Clara, I would have signed Daniel’s real document. I would have been blind to the depth of their betrayal. You saved my life twice—once by trying to warn me about the car, and once by showing me that I still deserved to be treated kindly when I was at my lowest."
May you like
She lowered her head, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. "I just did what was right."
"Come," I said, offering her my arm. "Let’s go home. The real home."
