Chapter 7 - The Fall
The arrests were swift and humiliating. Handcuffs clicked loudly in the polished marble room. My father tried to maintain his dignity, adjusting his suit jacket with cuffed hands, but his face was a mask of sheer terror. My mother wept hysterically, begging me to tell the police they were a good family. I stood perfectly still, leaning against the heavy oak table, and quietly replied that I didn't have a family anymore.
Whitney was left standing in the corner, untouched by the handcuffs but thoroughly destroyed by the reality of the situation. She demanded to know what would happen to her, insisting she just wanted her wedding. Jonathan coldly informed her that because the bridge loan was fraudulently obtained, all the money used for her lifestyle was stolen. The bank would be freezing all of her family’s assets by noon. Whitney stared at us, utterly speechless, as the officers led our parents out to face the local news cameras that Jonathan’s PR team had conveniently tipped off.
It was over. The threat was gone. The adrenaline that had been holding me together suddenly evaporated, and my knees buckled. Before I could hit the floor, Jonathan caught me. His strong arms supported my weight, careful not to jostle my broken ribs. “I’ve got you, Claire. It’s done,” he murmured, his voice incredibly soft compared to the steel he had just shown my family. I buried my face in his lapel and let myself cry tears of sheer, overwhelming relief. When I whispered for him to take me home, he didn't ask if I meant my apartment. “We’re going right now,” he said.
