Chapter 4 - The Bride’s UltimatumThe bride—whose name was Cynthia Sterling, daughter of the powerful media mogul Jonathan Sterling—slowly walked over to Preston. Her face was an mask of chilling composure.
She looked down at the man she was supposed to marry in less than an hour.
"Cynthia, baby, please!" Preston pleaded, grabbing the hem of her pristine white gown with his bloodshot, shaking hands. "It was a mistake! Stress! The media is twisting it!"
Cynthia looked at the tablet playing the endless loop of Preston hurling the heavy oak board at a bleeding eight-year-old girl. Then she looked at Sophie, who was bravely pressing a tissue to her temple while leaning against my shoulder.
With a slow, deliberate motion, Cynthia reached up, unpinned her multi-million-dollar diamond tiara, and dropped it right onto Preston’s head.
"The wedding is off," Cynthia said, her voice cutting like glass. "And as for my father's media conglomerate? We're going to run a 24-hour special report exposing every single illegal shipping loophole Thornton Global has ever used."
"No! Cynthia, you can't!" Margaret shrieked, grabbing her son's arm. "We need the Sterling alliance! Without their media backing, the stock crash will annihilate us!"
"Your stock is already at zero, Margaret," a new voice echoed from the ballroom entrance.
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Heavy footsteps echoed across the marble floor. A squad of federal law enforcement officers, accompanied by financial regulators, marched straight into the room. At the front stood Chief Inspector Marcus Vance—my cousin, who had been tracking the Thornton family's money laundering ring for over a year.
"Preston Thornton and Margaret Thornton," Marcus announced, flashing a gleaming pair of steel handcuffs. "You are under arrest for corporate fraud, embezzlement, obstruction of justice, and the aggravated assault of a minor."
