Chapter 9 - The Panic of the Elite
Chaos erupted in the ballroom.
High-society socialites shrieked and scrambled backward, scattering like panicked birds as federal agents fanned out across the room, serving subpoenas and freezing digital devices belonging to several of Arthur’s board members who had been complicit in the cover-up.
Chloe stood frozen in the middle of the dance floor, her custom champagne silk dress trailing in a puddle of spilled champagne and broken glass. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.
“Dad? Dad, tell them they’re making a mistake! Tell them who we are!” Chloe screamed, grabbing at her father’s arm as the agents pulled Arthur’s hands behind his back and clicked the cuffs into place.
Arthur didn't look at her. His eyes were locked on me, filled with a mixture of terror and bitter, helpless hatred. He realized then that I hadn't just crashed his party—I had systematically dismantled his entire world, brick by brick, receipt by receipt.
“You’ll never get away with this,” Arthur rasped as they dragged him down the steps. “The board will fight you. The courts will throw it out!”
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“The board is currently answering questions in federal holding cells across the city,” I replied smoothly, stepping aside to let the agents pass. “And the courts? My father’s original patents and the unedited forensic audits are already on Judge Sterling’s desk.”
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