Chapter 9 - The Unraveling
The room erupted into furious whispers. Camera flashes from the society reporters exploded in a blinding rhythm, capturing every second of Evelyn’s sudden, terrified humiliation.
"You insolent little tramp!" Evelyn hissed, stepping away from her table, her face contorting into an ugly red mask. "How dare you show your face here! I took you into my home! I gave you a roof over your head when Arthur died, and this is how you repay us?"
"You didn't give me a roof, Evelyn," I replied calmly, walking straight toward her table. "You moved into my home. You slept in my guest room, drank my father's vintage cellars, and stole twelve dollars from my purse while handing me bus fare five days after my abdomen was cut open."
The crowd of society women gasped, several hands flying to open mouths in horror.
"That's a lie!" Evelyn shrieked, backing into her chair. "She's insane! She's hallucinating!"
"The vehicle parked at the valet stand," Marcus announced, unrolling a legal document before the crowd and the flashing cameras, "License plate 4-ALPHA-9, registered to Eliza Vance Fenwick. Stolen under a fraudulent power of attorney forged while Mrs. Fenwick was heavily medicated post-surgery. The vehicle is currently being impounded as evidence in an ongoing federal grand larceny investigation."
Outside, the heavy chains rattled through the ballroom windows as the flatbed lifted my SUV into the air.
"And as for your little foundation," I said, leaning over the table, looking Evelyn straight in her bulging, terrified eyes, "the bank accounts you intended to fund today were frozen at six this morning. The three point four million dollars your son tried to wire into your offshore trust has been seized by the Department of Justice."
"Travis..." Evelyn choked out, frantically pulling out her diamond-encrusted phone. "Where is Travis? Travis will handle this!"
"Travis is currently in handcuffs on the fortieth floor of Northgate Tower," I told her, the words cold and sweet as fresh ice. "And the sheriff's deputies behind me are here for you, Evelyn."
The lead deputy stepped forward, pulling a pair of steel handcuffs from his belt.
"Evelyn Fenwick. You are under arrest for conspiracy to commit grand theft, forgery of legal instruments, and corporate wire fraud. Turn around and place your hands behind your back."
"Don't touch me!" she screamed, flailing her arms, knocking over a tower of crystal glasses that crashed to the floor in a shower of sparkling shards. "Do you know who I am? I am an Astor! I am a Fenwick!"
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"No, Evelyn," I said, watching as the deputies pinned her arms behind her emerald jacket, clicking the cold steel around her wrists in front of every reporter in the city. "You're just a thief who couldn't even afford her own bus fare."
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