Chapter 6 - THE FALL OF THE PATRIARCH
Down the secure corridor in maximum security, Arthur Vance was learning the exact same lesson.
The billionaire patriarch—a man who had spent forty years believing he owned the politicians, the courts, and the laws of the country—was sitting in a windowless holding cell, staring blankly at a television screen mounted in the corner.
The local news channel was broadcasting live footage from downtown.
“...Breaking news tonight regarding the total liquidation of the Vance conglomerate,” the anchor announced, her voice crisp and professional. “Federal regulators have confirmed that all corporate assets, subsidiary holdings, and real estate portfolios have been seized under federal racketeering laws. Investigators have appointed a special government receiver to oversee the complete dismantling of the corporation...”
Footage played of government workers carrying boxes of seized documents out of the towering glass skyscraper that bore the Vance name in giant bronze letters.
Then, workers climbed onto the roof with heavy industrial cranes and plasma torches.
With a blinding flash of blue sparks, the giant VANCE lettering was cut loose from the stone facade and sent crashing down into the courtyard below, shattering into a thousand meaningless pieces of scrap metal.
Arthur let out a low, animalistic roar of rage. He lunged forward, slamming his fists against the reinforced steel bars of his cell.
"No! That's my company! I built that empire with my bare hands! You can't touch it! You can't destroy forty years of history!" Arthur screamed, his face turning purple with fury as the guards outside his cell watched with cold, indifferent expressions.
"History's over, Mr. Vance," the senior guard said flatly, tapping his nightstick against the bars. "Time to face reality."
Just then, the heavy security door at the end of the hall buzzed open.
A high-ranking federal official walked down the cell block, stopping directly in front of Arthur's cage. It was Deputy Attorney General Harrison himself, holding a thick leather briefcase.
Arthur gripped the bars, his eyes bloodshot and desperate. "Harrison! You know me! We played golf at the presidential club last month! You can't let this happen—tell these fools to release me immediately!"
Deputy AG Harrison looked down at Arthur not with anger, but with absolute, crushing contempt.
"Arthur, last month you were a billionaire philanthropist. Today, you are a convicted felon facing two hundred years in federal prison for international money laundering, securities fraud, and racketeering," Harrison said calmly, unlocking a side pouch of his briefcase and pulling out a single document. "And by the way, your wife Beatrice has just filed for an emergency divorce, seeking to freeze whatever personal assets you managed to hide in her name."
Arthur staggered backward, his knees hitting the narrow bunk bed behind him. "Beatrice...? She wouldn't... she loves the money..."
May you like
"She loves herself more, Arthur," Harrison replied coldly. "And right now, being tied to a sinking ship doesn't fit her country club social calendar."
Harrison tossed the divorce papers through the bars onto Arthur’s narrow cot, turned on his heel, and walked away down the corridor, leaving the fallen billionaire utterly alone in the dark.
