CHAPTER 4: THE COLLAPSE OF THE ARISTOCRACY
The glittering illusion of the Bennett family dynasty dissolved into an ugly, pathetic spectacle as federal agents marched my father toward the staging area in plastic zip-ties. His expensive custom tuxedo was wrinkled, his hair was disheveled, and his arrogant swagger had been entirely replaced by a shuffling, defeated slouch. He looked like an old, broken man who finally realized that no amount of money could buy immunity from federal treason.
As the agents led him past my vehicle, his eyes locked onto mine through the tinted window of the armored Suburban. His lips quivered, and for a fleeting second, I saw a desperate plea for familial mercy flicker across his sweat-streaked face. I didn't roll down the glass, and I didn't offer him a single glance of recognition. I simply looked right through him, treating him with the exact same cold indifference he had weaponized against me my entire life.
My mother was having a full-blown hysterics attack near the floral arrangements, screaming at female federal agents who were confiscating her diamond tennis bracelet as proceeds of wire fraud. She collapsed onto a velvet sofa, weeping dramatically into her designer handkerchief while complaining that her blood pressure medication was in her Louis Vuitton purse. Not a single one of her high-society friends stopped to offer her comfort, proving that loyalty among parasites only exists when the champagne is flowing.
Emily came stumbling across the ruined lawn, her pristine white wedding gown stained with grass and mud, tears carving deep trenches through her expensive bridal makeup. She threw herself against the side of the Suburban, hammering her manicured fists against the reinforced bulletproof glass. "Claire! Open this door! Tell them to let Daddy go! You can't do this to our family!" she screamed hysterically.
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I pressed the button on the control console, and the heavy window lowered precisely two inches, just enough for my voice to carry through the narrow gap. "Your family died the second you stood by and laughed while I was thrown into that fountain, Emily," I said evenly, my voice devoid of any emotion. "Consider this federal indictment my wedding gift to you."
Before she could scream another word, I hit the master switch, sealing the window shut and cutting off her hysterical wailing completely. Colonel Anderson signaled to the drivers in the front and rear vehicles, and our three-car tactical convoy began to roll forward. We crushed the delicate white rose petals scattered across the driveway as we smoothly accelerated away from the burning wreckage of my family's empire.
