Chapter 11 - Escorting the Fraudsters Out in Cuffs
The federal marshals marched Richard toward the front door in broad daylight, passing the manicured hedges and neighborhood lawns.
Neighbors peeked through their curtains, whispering in stunned disbelief as Boston’s most arrogant corporate manager was hauled away in handcuffs.
Susan sobbed uncontrollably, clutching her designer handbag like a lifeline while officers escorted her out to a separate transport van.
Tyler sat slumped on the floor, realizing his college trust fund, sports car, and allowance were completely wiped out in a single afternoon.
I stepped out onto the porch, breathing in the crisp afternoon air with a profound sense of absolute liberation.
The mud from my grandmother’s grave was still drying on the hem of my cheap flats, but I no longer felt like an outcast.
I was the legal owner of the estate, the primary shareholder of Vanguard Corp, and the protector of my grandmother’s true legacy.
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My phone buzzed in my coat pocket, displaying a text message from Arthur Vance at the downtown bank.
“The transition audit is complete, Director Henderson. Your office on the fiftieth floor is ready for your arrival tomorrow morning.”
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