Chapter 6 - The Police Arrive
Four uniformed officers from the Boston Police Department strode into the ballroom, accompanied by two federal agents in dark suits.
Sabrina froze instantly, pulling the whimpering toddler behind her as the lead investigator flashed his gold credentials.
"Sabrina Lowell?" Special Agent Harrison asked, his voice booming with unyielding federal authority.
Sabrina swallowed hard, her arrogant demeanor completely evaporating into thin air.
"I didn't do anything! It was all Preston! He orchestrated the entire scheme!" Sabrina shrieked, pointing toward the floor.
Agent Harrison didn't even blink; he signaled to the female officer standing directly beside him.
"Sabrina Lowell, you are under arrest for interstate wire fraud, conspiracy to commit money laundering, and grand larceny."
The metallic click of handcuffs snapping around Sabrina's delicate wrists echoed loudly through the silent ballroom.
"Wait, what about my son? You can't take me away from my son!" Sabrina screamed as she was pulled toward the hallway.
"Child Protective Services is waiting outside to take temporary custody of the minor," Agent Harrison replied coldly.
Even in her downfall, Sabrina looked back at Preston with pure hatred burning in her dark eyes.
"You ruined my life, you pathetic old fool!" she screamed at Preston before the heavy doors slammed shut behind her.
Agent Harrison then turned his attention toward the man still kneeling pathetically on the expensive carpet.
Preston looked up, his tie askew, his hair wild with sweat, looking ten years older than when he had entered.
"Preston Hargrove?" Agent Harrison asked, stepping over the scattered floral centerpieces to reach him.
"Agent... please, this is a family dispute, we can settle this civilly, my lawyers are already on retainer!" Preston begged.
"Your lawyers won't be able to help you tonight, Mr. Hargrove," the federal agent responded with absolute indifference.
"An emergency grand jury warrant was signed two hours ago based on financial records submitted to our field office."
I had sent the digitized evidence directly to the United States Attorney's Office earlier that afternoon through my father's attorney.
Preston turned his hollow eyes toward me, realizing that every single exit had been sealed before he even arrived at the party.
"You planned this... you knew everything before we even walked through those doors," Preston whispered in horror.
"I didn't plan your betrayal, Preston," I said, walking down from the stage to stand beside my daughter.
"You planned the betrayal yourself over three selfish years; we simply made sure everyone saw the finished product."
The two police officers grabbed Preston by the arms, hoisting him forcefully to his feet and wrenching his arms behind his back.
The cold steel handcuffs snapped shut around his wrists, the sound final, absolute, and utterly devoid of pity.
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The guests parted like the Red Sea as the officers marched Preston toward the ballroom's towering exit doors.
The man who had entered thirty minutes ago as an arrogant king was leaving as a disgraced, handcuffed criminal.
