Chapter 7 - The Downfall of a Fraud
Before Derek could muster a defense, the front doors pushed open once more. This time, it wasn't the wind.
Two local police officers—accompanied by federal marshals wearing tactical windbreakers marked FBI - WHITE COLLAR CRIME DIVISION—walked into the foyer.
The senior marshal stepped forward, his eyes locked on Derek O’Connell.
"Derek O'Connell?" the marshal asked, pulling a pair of steel handcuffs from his tactical belt.
Derek backed away, hitting the edge of the piano hard enough to knock over a silver tray of canapés. "This is insane! You can't arrest me! I’m a senior executive! I want my lawyer!"
"Your lawyer, Mr. Pendelton, is currently cooperating with federal prosecutors in Manhattan, having already surrendered copies of your digital ledger entries," the marshal said flatly. "Mr. Derek O'Connell, you are under arrest for grand corporate fraud, wire embezzlement, money laundering, and interstate securities tampering."
The tactical bodyguards moved in with effortless precision. Before Derek could even raise his hands to protest, two pairs of hands gripped his arms, forcing him around and slamming his wrists into the cold steel cuffs with a sharp, metallic click.
"No! Wait! Sarah! Please!" Derek shrieked, his voice cracking into a desperate, pathetic wail as the marshals began dragging him toward the open front doors where the blizzard still raged. "Sarah, please! We were married! Think of the baby! Think of our life together! You can't do this to me!"
Sarah didn't even blink. She watched him pass without a shred of emotion.
"Take him outside," Sarah said quietly to the lead marshal. "Let him experience the weather without a coat. It builds character."
Jessica tried to slip toward the kitchen hallway, hoping to blend into the background and escape unnoticed.
"And where do you think you're going, Miss Miller?" Arthur Sterling’s voice cut across the room like a razor.
Jessica froze, turning around with tears streaming down her carefully applied makeup. "I... I didn't do anything! I was just an intern! He made me do it!"
"HR records indicate you were an active participant in drafting the shell-company transfer requests while billing your time to corporate accounts," Arthur said, stepping forward with a digital tablet. "Federal investigators would love to chat with you about accessory to fraud. Please remain right where you are."
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Jessica burst into noisy, unrestrained tears, slumping against the wall as the reality of her ruined future crashed down around her.
The guests stood frozen in place, terrified to move, breathe, or speak, acutely aware that every single person in the room was linked in some way to Derek’s corporate network and likely facing their own subpoenas by morning.
