Chapter 6 - Handcuffs and Caviar
The metallic click of the handcuffs securing Arthur’s wrists echoed loudly through the cavernous ballroom, shattering the illusion of aristocratic invulnerability.
Eleanor stared at her brother in absolute horror, her hand covering her mouth as reality finally crashed down upon her.
“Arthur, tell me they are joking,” Eleanor pleaded, taking a hesitant step toward him.
“You are the head of the family investments. You protect us. You do not steal from us.”
Arthur looked down at the steel bands around his wrists with mild annoyance, refusing to show a single ounce of remorse.
“Protection costs money, Eleanor,” Arthur replied coldly.
“And maintaining our lifestyle required resources that grandmother’s old-fashioned trusts simply could not provide anymore.”
Margaret lowered her head into her hands, the formidable matriarch suddenly looking every bit of her seventy years.
“How could I have been so blind?” Margaret murmured, her voice breaking.
“I trusted both of you with everything we built.”
Agent Miller gestured toward the exit, signaling the other officer to escort Arthur toward the heavy double doors.
“Move along, Mr. Sterling. We have a long night of questioning ahead of us at the federal field office.”
As Arthur walked past the tiered white wedding cake, his shoulder brushed against the frosting, leaving a small white smear on his black tuxedo sleeve.
He didn’t even bother to brush it off.
Julian watched Arthur leave with a mixture of profound relief and pathetic desperation, turning his attention back to Clara and Eleanor in a cowardly attempt to salvage his own position.
“You see?” Julian stammered, looking frantically between the two women.
“I was just a pawn in Arthur’s larger scheme! He forced me to sign those documents under threat of professional ruin!”
Eleanor turned slowly to face Julian, her eyes burning with a cold, terrifying fury that completely replaced her earlier tears.
“Shut your mouth, Julian,” Eleanor said, her voice deathly quiet.
“You are going to prison right alongside him, and I am going to make sure my family’s legal team strips you down to the clothes on your back.”
Clara stepped forward, wiping a final drop of dried wine from her cheek with the back of her hand.
“Your legal team won't have anything left to strip, Eleanor,” Clara said flatly.
“Because before walking into this reception tonight, I filed a lien against every single asset registered under the Sterling family name to cover the foundation’s losses.”
Eleanor spun around, her pink evening dress swishing violently.
May you like
“You did what?”
---
