Chapter 8 - The Final Stand
Silence stretched over the intercom for a long, agonizing moment. Outside my door, I could hear Alexander’s heavy, ragged breathing echoing through the empty hallway.
"Sophia, please," he whimpered, his voice dropping to a pathetic, pleading whisper against the metal speaker grille. "We were supposed to be a family. I made a mistake. Khloe meant nothing to me! Please, just give me my keys back. Give me a second chance."
"You had your chance at the JFK check-in counter, Alexander," I replied evenly, my voice devoid of any warmth or hesitation. "When you handed me my passport and thought you were walking away victorious. But the game was rigged from the very start."
Footsteps echoed sharply down the hallway as two uniformed building security guards—accompanied by federal marshals—rounded the corner. I watched them clearly through the smart peephole monitor on my screen.
"Mr. Sterling," one of the marshals announced firmly, his voice crisp and official. "Alexander Sterling? You are under federal arrest for wire fraud, corporate identity theft, and conspiracy to commit financial embezzlement. Turn around and place your hands behind your back."
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"No! Wait! You don't understand, this is a mistake!" Alexander shouted, panic surging in his voice as the heavy thud of a struggle echoed against the apartment door. "Sophia! Sophia, help me! Tell them!"
I didn't answer. I simply stood there watching the monitor as the cuffs clicked securely around his wrists, dragging him away from my doorstep and down toward the elevators from which he would never return as a free man.
