Chapter 4: The House of Cards
The interrogation room at the federal building was cold, mirroring the mood of the Sterling family. Beatrice sat with her head in her hands, her designer blazer wrinkled and stained with tears of rage. Julian was pacing, his suit jacket off, his tie undone—a shadow of the man who had been laughing in the mansion hours ago.
"We have nothing left," the lawyer muttered, rubbing his temples. "The SEC has frozen everything. The Department of Justice has every digital fingerprint. You are looking at fifty years to life, each."
"Eleanor," Beatrice hissed, her voice sounding like a wounded animal. "She was the one. She tricked us."
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They realized now that Eleanor hadn't just walked away; she had orchestrated their entire collapse. The ring had been the trigger. By snatching it, they had physically handed her the pretext she needed to call the FBI and claim they were tampering with evidence related to a high-level investigation. It was the perfect trap: they had been greedy enough to steal a "trinket" while she stripped them of their empire.
They had been so focused on the ring that they hadn't noticed the world shifting beneath their feet. They weren't just poor; they were exposed as the criminals they had been for decades.
