Chapter 17 - The Arrest And The ExileThe heavy oak doors of the ballroom suddenly banged open once more.
This time, it wasn't a syndicate boss or a vengeful family member. A team of federal agents and local police officers marched into the room in synchronized unison, their badges gleaming under the crystal chandeliers.
The lead agent walked straight past the stunned crowd of elite guests, stopping directly in front of Marcus, who was still sitting pathetically on the marble floor, and Sarah, who was hyperventilating in the corner.
“Marcus Sterling. Sarah Jenkins,” the federal agent announced loudly, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings. “You are under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder, international terrorism association, and federal securities fraud.”
The click of steel handcuffs snapping onto Marcus’s wrists sounded like a gunshot in the silent room.
Marcus didn't fight back. He didn't scream or puff out his chest. He hung his head in total, absolute defeat, his shoulders shaking as the officers hoisted him up from the marble floor and dragged him toward the exit.
Sarah screamed bloody murder as cuffs were clamped around her wrists as well, kicking and scratching like a feral animal until two female officers forcibly carried her out through the double doors.
As the heavy doors slammed shut behind them for the final time, a collective sigh of relief seemed to sweep through the entire ballroom.
I let out a long, slow breath I felt like I had been holding for years.
Alexander stepped closer, wrapping his arms securely around my waist and pulling me against his chest. He looked down into my eyes, a warm, tender smile breaking through his fierce exterior.
“It’s over,” Alexander whispered softly. “They’re gone. Forever.”
The live orchestra, which had stopped playing during the commotion, quietly struck up a soft, elegant melody. The guests began to applaud—not out of polite high-society obligation, but out of genuine admiration, relief, and respect.
Alexander offered me his hand, palm up, just as he had done on the day my nightmare began.
May you like
“May I have this dance, Mrs. Sterling?” he asked softly, his dark eyes shining with deep, enduring love.
I smiled, placing my hand in his strong, warm grip. “I thought you'd never ask, Mr. Sterling.”
