Chapter 9 - The Fall of the House of Vance
Diego writhed on the floor, clutching his broken wrist as murmurs of disgust and horror rippled through the gathering. Not a single person in the room—business partners, long-time friends, or society peers—stepped forward to offer aid. They recoiled as if the Vance family carried a plague.
"Diego! My baby!" Victoria shrieked, rushing down the stairs to kneel beside her son. She glared up at Elena, her face twisted with bitter malice. "You monster! We gave you a roof! We fed you! You were nothing before my son picked you out of the gutter!"
Elena looked down at the woman who had spent months systematically stripping her of dignity, forcing her to wash floors on her hands and knees and locking her out in the bitter cold.
"You didn't give me a home, Victoria," Elena said, her voice completely steady, devoid of anger, radiating absolute finality. "You built a cage. And you mistook my patience for weakness."
At that moment, the heavy wooden doors of the ballroom opened once more. A contingent of federal agents in blue windbreakers, led by two prosecutors from the Department of Justice, marched directly into the hall.
Victoria gasped, scrambling to her feet. "What is the meaning of this?! Who called the police?!"
The lead federal agent stopped in front of Diego, pulling a badge and a warrant from his jacket. "Diego Vance, Victoria Vance. You are under arrest for multi-million-dollar wire fraud, maritime tax evasion, and money laundering through illicit port contracts."
Diego's face turned the color of chalk. "Fraud? What fraud?! Our books are clean!"
"Your books were concealed through offshore dummy corporations in Panama," Evelyn Cross, Arthur's lead attorney, announced calmly, stepping forward with a leather-bound file. "However, once Sterling Conglomerate became your senior creditor, our forensic auditors gained full access to your internal server logs. We handed every piece of evidence to the Department of Justice two hours ago."
The ballroom erupted into chaotic chatter. Camera flashes lit up the room as journalists, tipped off by an anonymous source, pushed past the doors to capture the spectacle.
Handcuffs clicked loudly around Diego's intact wrist, pulling his broken arm with it. He groaned in agony, tears of humiliation and panic streaming down his cheeks.
"Elena! Tell them to stop! You're carrying my child! You can't let them take your baby's father to prison!" Diego pleaded, dragging his knees across the floor toward her.
Elena looked down at him, resting a gentle hand on her stomach. "This child will have a family, Diego. But it will never, ever carry your name."
As the agents hauled Diego and Victoria away amidst blinding flashes and loud questions from the press, Victoria turned back, screaming venomously:
"You think you've won, Elena?! Marcus Vance won't let this stand! He will destroy you both!"
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Elena’s brow furrowed slightly. Marcus Vance? Diego’s estranged older brother had left the country seven years ago following a bloody scandal.
Arthur’s eyes narrowed, a shadow of genuine calculation passing across his face.
