Chapter 7 - The Descent from the Spotlight
The metallic click of handcuffs seemed to echo louder than the sirens wailing outside the Grand Meridian Hotel. Victoria stood frozen as the lead investigator mounted the steps of the stage, his boots thudding rhythmically against the polished wood. The crowd watched in rapt, horrified silence, phones raised high to capture every humiliating second of the fall of the Sterling dynasty.
"You don't understand," Victoria muttered, her voice finally cracking as cold steel encircled her delicate wrists, biting sharply into her skin above her diamond bracelets. "This is a misunderstanding. My family built this city."
"Your family built a house of cards," the investigator replied quietly, turning her gently toward the stairs. "And the foundation just gave out."
As they led her down the steps, Victoria’s gaze locked once more on Chloe, who stood behind the podium watching the procession with quiet, unreadable eyes. There was no triumph in Chloe's expression, only a heavy, weary closure. Victoria wanted to scream, to lash out, to smash another tray, but her limbs felt entirely devoid of strength. The silver dress that had felt like armor hours ago now felt like a cheap costume, a pathetic disguise for a fraud.
They guided her through the parting sea of former friends and business associates who actively averted their eyes, refusing to offer even a glance of recognition. The heavy mahogany doors swung shut behind them, cutting off the suffocating air of the ballroom and plunging Victoria into the harsh, sterile reality of the hallway.
Yet, as they reached the service elevator—the very same elevator Chloe had used earlier—the lead investigator paused, his radio crackling with static.
"Hold her here for a second," the investigator muttered into his shoulder mic, listening intently to a rapid-fire exchange of encrypted voices.
Victoria leaned against the cold stainless-steel wall, panting softly, trying to regain a shred of her composure. "What now? Are you taking me to the precinct or the federal holding facility?"
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The investigator lowered his radio, his expression turning grim as he looked past her shoulder. "Neither. We just got word from the downtown bureau. The primary offshore account you transferred the morning funds into... it was emptied ten minutes ago."
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