Chapter 8 - The Price of Treason
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By noon, the news had hit the financial columns like an earthquake.
The headline on Bloomberg was brutal: Varelli Foundation Embroiled in Massive Embezzlement Scheme; Cousin Arrested.
Down in the lobby of the residential tower where Sabrina Cole lived, paparazzi and reporters swarmed the revolving doors.
Sabrina stepped into the lobby wearing oversized sunglasses and a fur coat, dragging two designer suitcases behind her.
She had already booked a one-way flight to Zurich.
She pushed past the front desk, but two uniformed federal marshals stepped into her path.
"Sabrina Cole?" the lead agent asked, showing his badge.
"Excuse me, I have a flight to catch," she snapped, her voice trembling behind her expensive sunglasses.
"Your passport has been flagged, Ms. Cole."
"You are named as an unindicted co-conspirator in a grand jury indictment for wire fraud and money laundering."
"That's absurd!" she shrieked, backing away.
"Silas Varelli gave me everything!"
"I'm his partner!"
From the side of the lobby, a black Maybach came to a halt at the curb.
The rear window slid down.
Silas Varelli looked out at her through the dark glass.
Sabrina’s face lit up with desperate hope.
"Silas!" she screamed, lunging toward the car.
"Tell them! Tell them it's a mistake!"
Silas looked at her as if she were a dead rat in the gutter.
He signaled his security team.
The private investigator who had accompanied Silas stepped forward, holding a clear plastic evidence bag.
Inside the bag was the platinum leaf bracelet Silas had bought on Madison Avenue.
"She didn't tell you, did she, Sabrina?" the investigator said quietly.
"The bank accounts in the Cayman Islands were frozen at sunrise by order of the chief financial auditor."
"Laurel Varelli."
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Sabrina’s mouth fell open in silent terror.
The window of the Maybach slid shut, and the car accelerated smoothly into traffic, leaving her in handcuffs on the cold sidewalk.
