The ink on the intake form stared back at me. It was my signature. The sharp slant of the G, the hurried loop of the R—it was an exact replica of my handwriting. Except I had never seen this document before in my life. / Chapter 7 / 20

Chapter 7 - The Arrest and the Hidden VaultRed and blue emergency lights flashed against the concrete pillars as two police cruisers swept down the ramp, blocking the exit entirely. Officers spilled out, their boots heavy against the floor, weapons drawn until they assessed the scene.

"Stay right where you are! Hands behind your back!" an officer shouted, stepping forward with zip-ties ready.

I slowly released Sloane and backed away, raising my hands to show I was unarmed. Sloane immediately shifted her performance, her demeanor morphing instantly from raging lunatic to helpless victim.

"Officer, thank God!" she cried out, tears instantly springing to her eyes as she looked up at the closest cop. "He attacked me! He’s unstable—he locked his own daughter up and tried to blame it on me! Look at my dress, look at what he did to my car!"

The officer looked at Sloane in her torn white wedding gown, then looked at me, covered in dust and blood from my cheek. He hesitated for a split second.

"Officer, check her phone," I said steadily, pointing a finger at Sloane. "And check the front seat of her Porsche. You'll find intake papers for a private residential facility, forged signatures, and a wire transfer receipt from my corporate account for forty-five thousand dollars."

Sloane’s face went slack. The performance shattered for good.

As two female officers pulled her to her feet and slapped cuffs around her wrists, one of the male officers opened the door of the Porsche. Within seconds, he pulled out the exact folder I had left on the foyer table, along with a secondary leather briefcase bearing my company's logo.

"Mr. Grant?" the officer asked, walking over to me.

"That's me."

"We got a call from a Mr. Marcus Vance regarding corporate fraud, forgery, and child endangerment. Looks like we have plenty of evidence right here." The officer gestured to the folder. "You and your daughter need to come down to the station to give formal statements."

I nodded, feeling a massive weight lift from my shoulders. I walked over to the passenger side of my SUV, opened the door, and unbuckled Maisie. She threw her arms around my neck so tight I could barely breathe.

"We're safe, bug," I whispered into her hair. "We're going home."