Chapter 5 - The Golden TrapThe engagement party was held at the Drake Hotel, a glittering affair designed to cement our union in the eyes of Chicago’s high society. Every politician, judge, and mafia affiliate who feared Alexander Whitmore was in attendance, sipping champagne under glittering chandeliers.
I wore a blood-red silk gown that hugged every curve, my hair pinned back with diamond-encrusted combs Alexander had gifted me that morning.
Mason arrived uninvited, looking frantic and disheveled. He bypassed security—who let him in under Alexander’s direct orders—and marched straight up to us as we stood greeting the mayor.
"Uncle, we need to talk. Now," Mason hissed, ignoring me entirely.
Alexander swirled his scotch, his expression utterly blank. "Speak, Mason. Everyone here is family, essentially."
Mason’s eyes darted nervously around the crowd. "Not here. It's about the federal shipping contracts. The ones you signed over to the syndicate last month... the feds are auditing them. They found a discrepancy pointing directly to Carter Manufacturing's old logs."
A hush fell over the immediate circle.
I smiled softly, taking a sip of my champagne. "Oh, those logs?" I asked innocently. "The ones Mason meticulously forged and planted on my father's servers?"
May you like
Mason whipped his head toward me, horror dawning in his eyes. "You..."
"The federal prosecutor is right over there, Mason," Alexander pointed smoothly toward the corner of the ballroom, where a man in an expensive tailored suit was walking toward us, flanked by two federal agents. "And unlike my nephew, the DOJ doesn't care about family loyalty."
Related Stories
