Chapter 13 - Handcuffs and Reckoning
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The double doors of the boardroom opened for the final time that morning.
Four men in dark charcoal suits and federal credentials walked into the room, followed by two uniformed NYPD officers.
The lead agent stepped directly toward Julian.
“Julian Holloway?” the agent asked, flashing his gold badge.
Julian stared at the badge, his mouth hanging slightly open.
“Yes,” Julian whispered, barely audible.
“I am Special Agent Miller with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, Financial Crimes Division.”
“We have an active federal warrant for your arrest on charges of wire fraud, interstate extortion, and grand larceny.”
The uniformed officers stepped forward.
One of them took Julian’s right arm, twisting it behind his back with practiced efficiency.
The cold steel handcuffs clicked loudly around Julian’s wrists.
Julian looked toward Grant one last time, his face twisted in a pathetic mixture of rage and terror.
“Grant, we’re family,” Julian pleaded, his voice breaking into a whimper.
“You can't let them take me like this!”
Grant looked at his cousin with cold, unflinching eyes.
“You stopped being my family the day you let a six-year-old girl fight cancer without help, Julian.”
“Take him away.”
The officers led Julian down the hallway toward the service elevators.
His muffled cries of protest faded into the distance until the floor was completely silent once more.
Richard Monroe turned toward Grant, his hands trembling as he gathered his coat.
“The federal agents will be at my office within the hour, Grant,” Richard said quietly.
“I will cooperate fully with the prosecution.”
“I don't expect your forgiveness, but I am truly sorry.”
Grant did not reply.
He simply watched as the disgraced attorney walked slowly out of the room, knowing his legal career was effectively over.
Thirty minutes later, Grant, Mia, and I stepped out through the grand revolving doors of Holloway Tower onto Fifth Avenue.
A massive crowd of reporters and television news vans were gathered behind the velvet security ropes.
Standing near the fountain, looking completely shattered, was Celeste.
She wore dark sunglasses to hide her swollen, tear-stained eyes, holding a plain trench coat around her shoulders.
When she saw Grant, she took a hesitant step forward, reaching out with a trembling hand.
“Grant,” Celeste whispered, her voice choking on tears.
“Can we please talk for just five minutes?”
“I made a mistake, but I loved you.”
Grant stopped on the granite steps, looking at the woman he had intended to marry.
There was no anger left in his eyes, only a profound, immovable distance.
“You didn't love me, Celeste,” Grant said gently, but with finality.
“You loved the empire.”
“And you were willing to destroy an innocent girl to keep it.”
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Grant took Mia’s arm and guided her past the cameras toward his waiting car.
Celeste stood frozen on the sidewalk, watching as the black vehicle pulled smoothly into traffic, leaving her behind in the wreckage of her own choices.
