Chapter 8 - Ashes and Empires
The sun was just beginning to crest over the horizon, painting the sky in pale shades of gold and bruised purple, when the last police cruiser rolled down the long gravel driveway of the estate.
The grand ballroom was empty now. The caterers had cleared away the broken glass. The shattered champagne flutes were gone. The crystal chandeliers had been dimmed, leaving long, quiet shadows stretching across the polished marble floors.
I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, holding a cup of black coffee, watching the morning mist rise off the manicured gardens.
My uncle Martin was behind bars facing federal indictment.
Daniel was looking at twenty years for embezzlement and conspiracy.
Vanessa was packing her designer bags in a holding cell, her social standing reduced to ash.
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And Elena was locked in a high-security holding facility, her lifelong crusade against my family ending in a locked cell rather than a glorious victory.
The empire was safe. The shares were secure. The board would hold an emergency vote at noon, and my position as CEO would be solidified
