Chapter 13
Detective Miller kept his weapon raised, holding it steady as he closed the distance between them. "Elena Miller, you are under arrest for the aggravated endangerment of a minor, administration of controlled substances, and financial fraud. Turn around and place your hands behind your back."
Elena didn't flinch. She tilted her head slightly, studying the badge clipped to Tom's belt with clinical detachment. "Such heavy words for a simple family misunderstanding, Detective. A troubled father loses his grip after a tragic accident, and the state is all too eager to pin the resulting chaos on the new wife who tried to keep the household from falling apart."
"The toxicology lab doesn't share your creative interpretation of family therapy, Mrs. Miller," Tom said sharply, stepping closer until he was within arm's reach. "We have the ledger, we have the blood work, and we have the milk samples. The game is over."
Elena let out a soft, pitying sigh, her dark eyes flashing with a sudden, cold brilliance that chilled the air in the room. "You think a few blood tests and a notebook are enough to undo months of legal structuring? My assets are already transferred overseas through a blind trust that this county court has no jurisdiction over. Even if you lock me away, Arthur and his delicate little daughter will never recover what was lost."
"Step away from the table, hands behind your back," Tom commanded, his voice dropping to a low, unyielding growl.
Elena raised her hands slowly, stepping away from the open suitcase as if conceding defeat. But as Tom reached for his handcuffs, her expression shifted with terrifying speed. She lunged toward the dressing table, her hand sweeping across the mahogany surface to grab a heavy, brass-bound antique paperweight.
Tom reacted instantly, sweeping his arm forward and slamming Elena’s wrist against the edge of the dressing table. The heavy brass object clattered to the floorboards. With a swift, practiced motion, Tom forced her arms behind her back, snapping the cold steel cuffs around her wrists with a sharp click.
Elena didn't scream or thrash. As Tom pushed her down toward the patrol car outside, her face remained impassive, her eyes locked on the front door as if committing every detail of her defeat to memory.
Ten minutes later, Tom’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He flipped it open while standing in the quiet master bedroom, listening to the static-laced line.
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"Tom? It's Arthur," the voice came through, strained with cautious hope. "Is it done?"
"It's done, Arthur," Tom said, looking out the window at the flashing red and blue lights below. "She's in cuffs. The house is secure. You and Lily can finally come home."
