Chapter 9 - The Reckoning
Before Thomas could speak, the side doors of the ballroom opened. Four federal agents, accompanied by the state police escort Dr. Vance had secured, walked onto the stage.
The lead agent produced a warrant, holding it directly in front of Thomas’s face.
"Thomas Whitmore, you are under arrest for kidnapping, insurance fraud, corporate embezzlement, and attempted murder," the agent said clearly.
"This is a lie! You have no proof!" Thomas screamed, his hands shaking as the officers pulled his arms behind his back, the expensive diamond cufflinks clicking against the steel of the handcuffs.
"We have the original DNA logs from the Augusta lab that you paid to suppress, Thomas," Eleanor said from the base of the stage, her voice completely devoid of mercy. "And we have the modern forensic match from forty minutes ago. You spent twenty-two years enjoying my husband’s wealth, but you will spend the rest of your life in a concrete box that makes the alleyways my daughter slept in look like a palace."
As the guards dragged Thomas down the steps and out of the ballroom, the silence in the room was absolute. The elite of Boston stood frozen, realizing that the hierarchy of one of the largest fortunes on the East Coast had just been permanently reordered in less than five minutes.
May you like
Eleanor walked up the steps, taking her place at the podium beside her daughter. She looked out over the crowd of shareholders.
"The dinner is concluded," Eleanor announced. "But the restoration of the Whitmore family has just begun."
