Chapter 6 - High society socialites flee in absolute panic as federal marshals storm the luxury rooftop party arresting everyone connected to the disgraced corporate dynasty today.
The heavy glass doors of the penthouse terrace burst open with a loud, echoing crash. 3
A dozen federal marshals in tactical gear flooded the exclusive party space with weapons drawn.
Panic erupted instantly among the elite socialites and high-society guests dressed in designer tuxedos and gowns.
Champagne glasses shattered against the marble floor as wealthy elites scrambled toward the emergency exits.
"Stay where you are! Do not move!" a lead marshal bellowed, his voice commanding absolute obedience.
Beatrice Vance sat frozen in her silver metallic gown, unable to even stand up from her velvet lounge chair.
Two marshals marched directly toward her, their heavy tactical boots clicking against the pristine stone tiles.
"Beatrice Vance, you are under arrest for corporate fraud, money laundering, and conspiracy," the marshal stated.
Cold steel handcuffs snapped shut around her delicate wrists with a sharp, echoing metallic click.
She opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out as the sheer humiliation paralyzed her vocal cords.
They hauled her up from the chair, dragging her past the glittering crowd that once worshipped her name.
Camera flashes from paparazzi hiding across the street illuminated the disgraceful spectacle in rapid succession.
The fall from grace was absolute, public, and utterly inescapable for the once-untouchable matriarch.
Elena watched the live security feed on her penthouse television screen with a calm, expressionless face.
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The wicked had reaped the exact harvest they planted, and the debt had finally been paid in full.
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