Chapter 8
Back at the modern suburban residence, the atmosphere had transformed from a domestic dispute into a high-stakes siege. Two local police cruisers were parked haphazardly in the circular driveway, their red and blue lights casting an erratic strobe effect across the pristine white walls of the foyer. Officer Vance stood near the front door, blocking Ryan from leaving the property.
"Mr. Vance, I have told you three times: I need to go to the hospital to check on my wife," Ryan said, his voice dripping with condescending patience, though a thin layer of sweat coated his forehead.
"And I have told you three times, sir, you are required to remain on the premises until Detective Miller completes the preliminary interview via secure link," Vance replied, his arms crossed over his chest.
Evelyn paced the length of the living room, her wine glass finally discarded on a side table. Her short grey hair was slightly disheveled, a rare crack in her immaculate facade. "This is an outrage! We are victims of a malicious slander campaign orchestrated by an unstable woman. I demand to speak to the chief of police immediately."
Ryan’s phone buzzed violently in his pocket. He pulled it out, glancing down at the screen. A silent alert from his private server flashed: Unauthorized access detected on Primary Ledger Node 4.
The blood drained from Ryan’s face. The drive. Elena hadn't just slipped; she had baited him into a confrontation while someone—likely that paramedic—extracted the exact files that could dismantle his entire corporate facade. His hands began to shake slightly before he forced them deep into his trouser pockets, hiding the physical manifestation of his panic.
"Evelyn, calm down," Ryan said, his voice dangerously low. He looked at Vance with a hard, unyielding stare. "You can hold me here for another hour, Officer, but eventually, I will walk out those front doors. And when I do, every lawyer on retainer in this state will be tearing your department apart for unlawful detainment."
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Before Vance could respond, the smart-home intercom crackled to life. A robotic, pre-recorded security voice echoed through the house: External network lock engaged. All corporate assets frozen by federal order.
Ryan froze. Evelyn stopped pacing, her breath catching in her throat. The illusion of absolute control they had cultivated for years had just shattered in a single digital heartbeat. Ryan looked toward the hallway leading to Sophie’s room, realizing that time had officially run out. He had underestimated his wife to his ultimate detriment.
