CHAPTER 7: THE ARREST OF THE DYNASTY
The shock on Helena’s face was so absolute and profound that she momentarily forgot how to draw breath, her manicured fingers gripping the edge of the doorway for physical support.
"Arrest me? Do you have any idea who you are speaking to?!" Helena shrieked, her voice rising to a shrill, hysterical pitch that echoed through the grand marble foyer. "I am Helena Carter! My family built this city! I demand to speak to the district attorney right this instant!"
"Your family status doesn't exempt you from federal statute, Mrs. Carter. Turn around and place your hands behind your back," the special agent ordered, stepping across the threshold.
From the top of the grand staircase, Ethan came stumbling down in a plush designer bathrobe, rubbing his eyes and yawning lazily at the commotion.
"Mom, what's going on? Who's making all that—" Ethan started to complain before he froze in sheer terror, spotting the FBI jackets and the steel handcuffs dangling in the agent's hand.
"Ethan! Run! Call the lawyers!" Helena screamed frantically as two agents lunged forward, grabbing her arms and snapping the cold steel cuffs around her wrists with a sharp, brutal click.
Ethan turned to bolt back up the stairs, but a second tactical team swarmed in from the side service entrance, cutting off his escape route and forcing him against the wall.
"Clear! Subject secure!" an agent shouted, slapping handcuffs onto Ethan’s wrists while he began to sob hysterically about his college fraternity and his social standing.
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They were dragged out of their multi-million-dollar mansion into the pouring rain, their designer clothes soaked through as neighbors peeked nervously through drawn curtains.
The invincible Carter dynasty had been dismantled in less than twenty-four hours, entirely victims of their own unbridled greed and criminal arrogance.
