Chapter 6 - The Fall of the Heir"Mason Whitmore?" the federal prosecutor asked, flashing a badge. "You're under arrest for corporate fraud, money laundering, and obstruction of justice."

"This is a setup!" Mason screamed, thrashing as two armed agents grabbed his arms, pinning him against a marble pillar right where he had humiliated me a week ago. "Uncle! Tell them! This is a trap!"
Alexander stepped forward, towering over the broken, frantic man who had once thought he ruled Chicago.
"You wanted to put on a show for three hundred people, Mason," Alexander said quietly, his voice cutting through the gasps of the ballroom guests. "Always check who owns the theater before you buy the tickets."
As they dragged Mason past the shattered remnants of his pride, the crowd parted in terrified silence. No one murmured. No one laughed. They only looked at Alexander with a renewed, absolute dread—and looked at me with a newfound respect.
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I turned to Alexander, the adrenaline humming in my veins. "Was that necessary?"
"It was theatrical," Alexander corrected, slipping an arm around my waist and pulling me tight against him. "And theater is the only language these people understand."
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