Chapter 7 - The Trap Closes
The lobby of the Plaza Hotel became a scene of chaotic justice. As Julian and I reached the bottom of the stairs, Arthur Vance stepped forward, looking relieved but incredibly tense.
"Olivia," Arthur said, eyeing the police officers securing the exits. "Tell me you have what we need."
"I have it all, Arthur," I said, handing a secure USB drive to the lead corporate attorney. "Julian extracted the biometric logs, the IP traces, and the exact routing numbers. The twelve million dollars is currently frozen in an offshore holding account. Sterling Point can initiate the claw-back protocol first thing on Monday morning."
Arthur let out a breath he looked like he had been holding for hours. "You saved the firm, Olivia."
"I saved myself," I corrected him gently. "But the firm benefits."
Suddenly, a commotion erupted from the top of the stairs. Brandon and Margaret were being escorted down by four police officers. Margaret was fighting the handcuffs, her diamond bracelets clinking against the cold steel.
"Get your hands off me! I know the mayor! I'll have your badges!" she shrieked, her perfectly styled hair falling into her face.
Brandon, however, was silent. His eyes were hollow. He looked like a man walking to the gallows. As they were led past us, Margaret locked eyes with me.
"You are nothing!" she spat, tears of humiliated rage streaming down her face. "You will always be a nobody!"
"And you," I said calmly, looking at her expensive gown and the handcuffs binding her wrists, "will be a nobody in a very small cell."
The officers led them out through the revolving doors, pushing them into the back of the waiting squad cars. The flashbulbs of the paparazzi, who had gathered outside for the gala, went into a frenzy. The Hawthornes were finally on the front page of the social sections, but for all the wrong reasons.
"Ms. Hayes," a stern-looking man in a trench coat approached me, flashing an FBI badge. "Agent Miller, Financial Crimes. We're going to need you to come down to the field office to give a formal statement and officially hand over the laptop."
"Of course, Agent Miller," I said.
"I'll be representing Ms. Hayes during the statement," Grace Park, my attorney, said as she walked into the lobby, adjusting her glasses. She gave me a proud smile. "Excellent work tonight, Olivia."
The process took hours. I sat in a sterile interrogation room, flanked by Grace and Julian, walking Agent Miller through every single detail. We showed them the footage of the break-in, the fake mental health claims Brandon used to try and destroy the laptop, and the biometric photos of Brandon committing the wire fraud.
It was airtight. Brandon had left a digital footprint so massive that even the best Hawthorne lawyers wouldn't be able to defend him. He had committed wire fraud, identity theft, and attempted destruction of evidence. Margaret was charged as a co-conspirator for money laundering and receiving stolen funds.
By the time we finally walked out of the federal building, the sun was beginning to rise over the New York skyline. The city looked peaceful in the early morning light. I took a deep breath of the crisp air. I was exhausted, my feet were killing me in my heels, and my red silk dress was wrinkled. But I felt lighter than I had in years.
"Well," Julian said, standing beside me on the steps of the federal building, his hands stuffed into his pockets. "That was certainly one way to finalize a divorce."
I laughed, a genuine, unburdened sound. "Thank you, Julian. I couldn't have done this without you."
"You did all the heavy lifting, Olivia. I just provided the IT support," he smiled, his gray eyes soft in the morning light.
May you like
"Can I buy you breakfast?" I asked. "I think we both earned some coffee and a massive plate of pancakes."
Julian offered me his arm. "I know just the place."
