Chapter 5: The Unassailable Record
Sergeant Davis pulled out his department-issued tablet. A high-priority notification icon was flashing blue on the screen. He tapped the file, and the dining room scene played in crystal-clear high definition.
The audio was terrifyingly crisp. The speaker picked up the precise sound of Samantha’s green velvet heels clicking across the marble, followed by her low, venomous declaration: “You don't deserve this family!”
The screen clearly captured the physical assault—Samantha extending both arms with full force, shoving the defenseless, pregnant woman straight into the glass dining table. It showed the table exploding, Clara falling among the shards, and then—most damning of all—it captured the exact two seconds where Samantha’s face shifted from a demonic sneer into a calculated, fake-crying expression the moment she heard Alexander’s footsteps.
Sergeant Davis’s face hardened into stone. He turned off the tablet screen and looked up at Samantha.
“Ma’am,” the sergeant said, his voice dropping into an official, unyielding tone. “Hands behind your back.”
Samantha backed away, her eyes wide with shock. “What? Are you insane? Do you know who my father is? He’s the chairman of the state judiciary committee! You can't touch me!”
“You are under arrest for aggravated domestic assault, reckless endangerment, and attempted destruction of evidence,” Davis stated calmly, stepping forward and grabbing her wrist.
CLICK.
The cold steel of the handcuffs snapped tightly around Samantha’s right wrist. She screamed—a genuine, unscripted screech of rage—as the officer pulled her left hand back to lock the pair.
“Alexander!” Samantha shrieked, kicking her heels against the marble floor as she was dragged toward the front doors. “Tell them to stop! You’re destroying our family! What will the newspapers say? Think of the Sterling stock price!”
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Alexander didn't even turn to look at her as the officers escorted her out into the rainy Connecticut night. He kept his eyes locked on Clara, leaning down to kiss his wife’s forehead as the paramedics prepped the gurney for transport.
“The stock price will recover,” Alexander murmured softly. “My family is right here.”
