Chapter 7 - Unraveling the Masterpiece
Patricia backed away until her spine hit the heavy oak sideboard, knocking over a silver candelabra that hit the floor with a loud, metallic clang. The candles flickered out, plunging half of the dining room into deep, ominous shadows.
"You think a few videos of me being strict with your spoiled children is going to stop this wedding?" Patricia spat, her fear rapidly morphing into a vicious, desperate defense mechanism. She straightened her posture, trying to summon the arrogant socialite who had dominated the Dallas elite. "Go ahead, Julian. Call the police. Show them the video. My family’s legal team will have it thrown out of court as inadmissible before the sun comes up. And the moment you break this engagement, I will sue you for public defamation. I will drag your family name through the mud until your corporate stock plummets to zero!"
"I’m not calling the local police for a domestic dispute, Patricia," I said, tapping the screen of my tablet once more. "I don't care about the wedding anymore. I care about the eleven point eight million dollars you embezzled from the Caldwell Children’s Fund over the last six months."
Patricia froze, her eyes widening in absolute, paralyzing horror. "What... what did you say?"
"I’m talking about Apex Horizon Solutions," I continued, stepping around the table, tracking her like a wolf cornering its prey. "I’m talking about the shell company you registered in the Cayman Islands. I’m talking about your partner in crime, Victor Cole."
"No... that’s impossible," she whimpered, her hands flying to her throat, her chest heaving as panic completely seized her system. "Victor said... Victor said the digital trail was completely masked."
"Victor is currently sitting in a federal holding cell downtown, signing a full confession in exchange for a reduced sentence," I revealed, delivery the lie with such cold, absolute conviction that she didn't doubt it for a single second. "He gave up everything, Patricia. He gave up the Panama bank accounts, the routing numbers, and the encrypted email threads where you discussed sending my daughters to an isolated boarding school in the Swiss Alps so you could drain their inheritance."
As if on cue, Marcus’s voice crackled through the hidden earpiece in my right ear. “Julian, she just pulled her personal phone out of her dress pocket. She’s trying to access her offshore banking app to wipe the logs. We’ve got her. The digital mirror has successfully captured her master passcode. The FBI team is moving to the front door right now.”
Patricia’s fingers flew across her phone screen, her face illuminated by the pale blue light of the device. "It’s not true... it can't be true... the money is still there..."
"The money was transferred into a federal escrow account twenty minutes ago," I told her, standing just two feet away from her now. "You’re broke, Patricia. Your family name is ruined. Your lover has abandoned you. And your future home is a federal penitentiary."
With a blood-curdling shriek of pure rage, Patricia lunged at me, her manicured nails aimed directly at my eyes. But before she could even make contact, the grand double doors of the dining room were violently kicked open.
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"Federal Agents! Nobody move!"
Three heavily armed FBI agents, jackets emblazoned with yellow letters, flooded the room with tactical flashlights. Within three seconds, Patricia was slammed face-first against the polished mahogany dining table, her crimson silk dress twisting around her as the heavy steel handcuffs clicked into place over her wrists.
