Chapter 83 Seraphina's arrest
Chapter 83 Seraphina's arrest
The bankruptcy of Thorne Corp was flashing in neon red across the monitors, but the financial ruin was only the appetizer. The main course was about to be served in handcuffs.
At the edge of the Thorne family table, Seraphina Thorne formerly the Steel Rose of Hudson sat perfectly still. Her skin was the color of unpolished marble, her hand shaking so violently that the ice in her scotch glass rattled like a death knell.
"They're looking at you, Seraphina," a board member whispered, his voice cracking. "The people, the investors... they aren't looking at the ledgers anymore. They’re looking at you."
Seraphina didn't answer. Her eyes were fixed on the back of the room, where the heavy oak doors had just swung open for the third time that night. This time, it wasn't a guest.
A group of federal agents, flanked by NYPD officers in tactical gear, came through the crowd like a hot knife through butter. They didn't head for the bankers. They headed for the head table.
The lead agent, a woman with a face carved from granite, didn't hesitate. She marched straight through the center of the ballroom, the crowd parting like the Red Sea in a state of stunned, horrified silence.
"Mrs. Thorne" the agent’s voice rang out, cutting through the low hum of the servers.
Seraphina Thorne stood frozen, her hand still holding a glass of scotch that suddenly felt like lead. She looked at the approaching officers, then at Elara, who stood atop the stage like a vengeful God.
She stood up, her silk gown rustling. "This is a private event. You have no right—”
The lead agent, a woman with eyes as cold as Julian’s, stepped forward and placed a hand on Seraphina’s shoulder.
"Seraphina Thorne? Or should I say, Sarah Evans?" the agent asked, her voice echoing in the sudden hush.
"There must be some mistake," Seraphina said, her socialite mask slipping to reveal the raw, panicked face of a cornered animal. "I am a Thorne. You cannot touch me."
"The Thorne name can't protect you from a murder warrant, Sarah," the agent replied, pulling a pair of heavy steel handcuffs from her belt.
The ballroom went deathly quiet. Even the weeping millionaires stopped to listen. Elara stepped to the edge of the stage, her gaze locked on the woman who had tried to replace her.
"Tell them, Elara," Seraphina spat, her eyes wild. "Tell them this is a frame job, Tell them you’re doing this because you’re jealous"
"Jealous of who, you?" Elara asked, her voice ringing with a terrifying clarity. "No, Seraphina. I’m doing this because the truth is the only thing the Vance Group can't buy or sell."
Julian tapped the podium console, and a new file appeared on the holographic screens. It wasn't a ledger this time. It was a mugshot from a decade ago a younger, poorer Seraphina.
"Sarah Evans," the federal agent announced, her voice booming. "You are being placed under arrest for the 2014 Dayton Payroll Heist. A robbery that resulted in the death of a security guard, We have the forensic match on the physical bypass key used that night.
A collective gasp went through the room. A murderer was standing in their midst, draped in silk and diamonds.
"But that’s not all, is it?" Elara said, her voice dropping to a low, lethal register. "Tell the room about your husband, Seraphina. The one that died in jail."
"You are also charged with multiple counts of felony fraud," the agent continued. "Our investigation, aided by the Vance Aegis security audit, has confirmed that your marriage to Damien Thorne is legally null and void. You are still legally wed to one Thomas 'Tank' Miller your accomplice in the Dayton heist, that died serving a life sentence."
"You think you’ve won, Elara?" Seraphina screamed, her voice echoing off the gold leaf ceiling. "You’re just like me, you’re a killer in a pretty dress.”
"I don't kill, Sarah," Elara said, her eyes narrowing as she watched the officers begin to drag the Rose steel of Thorne" away. "I just provide the light. You’re the one who couldn't survive the exposure."
As the agents moved to flank her, Seraphina’s composure shattered. The woman who had ruled the social circles of New York with an iron fan suddenly looked like a cornered animal.
"I won't let you do this” Seraphina shrieked. She didn't wait for a reply. In a move that shocked the entire room, she hiked up the skirt of her designer gown and ran.
She pushed past a group of stunned investors, her heels clicking frantically against the tile. She was screaming, a high pitched, rough sound that tore through the music.
She didn't run for the main doors, she knew they were blocked. She ran toward the service entrance, knocking over a tray of crystal glass. The sound of shattering glass was like a starter pistol.
"Security" Julian barked from the stage, his hand already signaling the Aegis team.
She was five feet from the service door when the shadows seemed to come alive. Two Aegis operatives, men who looked like they were made of granite and shadow, stepped into her path.
Seraphina tried to dodge them, her hands clawing at the air. "Get out of my way, do you know who I am? I am a Thorne, I will have your lives for this”
One of the operatives reached out, his grip firm but professional. He caught her by the upper arms, halting her forward momentum so abruptly that she nearly fell.
"Mrs. Thorne," the operative said, his voice a low rumble. "Stay calm. You are making this much worse for yourself."
"Let me go” she screamed, her voice cracking. "DAMIEN YOU BASTARD, WHERE ARE YOU?”
The sight was pathetic, one of the most powerful woman in the city, pinned against a gold pillar by two men in tactical gear, her hair coming loose from its diamond pins, her eyes wide with a terrifying, fractured madness.
The cameras didn't stop. If anything, the flashing intensified. The paparazzi had broken through the blockage and the room was a strobe light of exposure. This was a public execution of Seraphina's reputation.
The lead federal agent caught up to her, clicking a pair of stainless steel handcuffs around Seraphina’s slender wrists. The metallic click of the locks seemed to echo louder than the music ever had.
"Is that the 'Rose'?" a socialite whispered, her voice dripping with venom. "She looks like a common thief."
"She is a common thief," another replied. "She just had better clothes."
Seraphina looked around the room, her eyes landing on the faces of the people who had eaten at her table for a years. She saw only disgust. She saw the way they were already deleting her number from their phones.
"Elara" Seraphina sobbed, turning her gaze toward the stage. "Please, We were family. You were his wife You can't let them do this"
"We were never family, Seraphina," Elara said, stepping down from the stage the silver of her gown reflecting the flashing lights. "You were a transaction. And tonight, the check bounced."