Chapter 13
The gunshot roared through the master suite like thunder, the bullet burying itself deep into the ornate plaster ceiling in a shower of white dust and falling debris. Eleanor shrieked in absolute fury and shock as Arthur crashed into her, his hands clamping down brutally around her wrists. The heavy revolver slipped from her grip, clattering loudly against the polished hardwood floor and sliding away beneath the heavy oak wardrobe. Eleanor fought back with the ferocity of a trapped animal, scratching and clawing at his face, her crimson nails leaving bloody gashes across his cheeks. But Arthur did not release his grip; fueled by months of suppressed rage and the desperate need to protect his daughter, he pinned her firmly against the edge of the heavy mahogany dressing table.
"It's over, Eleanor! The game is finished!" Arthur shouted over her furious cursing, his chest heaving as he pinned her arms behind her back. Suddenly, the heavy front doors of the mansion burst open below with a thunderous crash, followed by the heavy, rhythmic thud of tactical boots marching across the marble foyer. "Federal agents! Open up! Drop your weapons!" Marcus’s authoritative voice echoed up the grand staircase, accompanied by the urgent shouts of armed law enforcement officers swarming the estate. Eleanor froze beneath Arthur’s grip, her eyes widening in sheer, unadulterated terror as the heavy footsteps rapidly ascended the stairs, closing in on the master suite with unstoppable momentum.
Within seconds, the bedroom doorway flooded with armed federal agents in tactical gear, their weapons drawn and aimed squarely at the struggling couple. "Freeze! Hands on your head!" an agent shouted, rushing forward to separate them. Arthur immediately released Eleanor, raising his hands high and stepping back as two agents pinned his wife against the floor, snapping heavy steel handcuffs around her wrists. Eleanor shrieked and thrashed wildly, screaming curses and empty threats of lawsuits as she was hauled roughly to her feet. Marcus stepped into the room behind the agents, looking at Arthur’s bloodied face and torn suit with profound relief. "It’s over, old friend," Marcus said, placing a reassuring hand on Arthur’s shoulder. "We have the financial ledgers, the security footage, and the child protection warrants. She’s going away for a very long time."
