Chapter 4 - Behind Iron Bars and Boardroom Doors
Reporters leaped from their seats, turning their cameras away from Daniel and aiming them directly at the massive projection screens. Live broadcasts across three national news networks captured every second of the confession.
"Turn it off! Cut the power!" Daniel screamed, his face contorted in psychotic rage as he slapped at the podium controls. "Turn off those damn screens!"
Arthur Vance, seeing his own face on the screen discussing the illegal offshore wire transfers, completely collapsed onto the stage, burying his face in his hands.
"It wasn't my idea!" Vance shrieked into a live microphone. "Daniel forced me! He threatened to ruin my family if I didn't set up the offshore accounts!"
Daniel swung around and kicked Vance hard in the ribs. "Shut your mouth, you pathetic idiot!"
The heavy mahogany doors of the ballroom slammed open.
Four U.S. Marshals, accompanied by two dozen armed federal agents, marched down the central aisle, their badges glinting under the crystal chandeliers.
Leading them was Assistant United States Attorney Sarah Vance, a sharp, formidable prosecutor known as the nightmare of Wall Street criminals.
"Daniel Blackwood!" prosecutor Vance announced, her voice booming over the chaos. "You are under arrest for federal bank fraud, wire fraud, conspiracy to commit framing, corporate embezzlement, and witness tampering!"
Daniel backed away from the podium, his hands shaking wildly as he looked for an escape route toward the private stage exit.
Julian Drake reached for his sidearm, but Marcus Cole reacted instantly, slamming Drake against a marble pillar and sweeping his legs out from under him before slapping a pair of heavy steel handcuffs onto his wrists.
"It’s over, Drake," Marcus muttered in his ear. "Your boss's money can't buy you out of this one."
Two federal agents grabbed Daniel by the arms, forcing his hands behind his back. The metal handcuffs clicked shut with a sharp, definitive snap.
Daniel struggled against the grip of the agents, glaring at Amelia with pure, unadulterated hatred.
"You think you've won?!" Daniel spat, blood spraying slightly from his lips. "You're nothing without me, Amelia! You don't have a dime! My lawyers will have me out on bail before lunch, and I will destroy you!"
Amelia walked slowly up the stage steps, her heels clicking rhythmically against the hardwood floor. She stopped less than two feet from him, looking down at the man who had terrorized her for years.
"You forgot one minor detail, Daniel," Amelia said softly, her voice cool and steady. "When my father died, his original will stipulated that if I ever discovered evidence of foul play regarding his company's acquisition, my voting rights would automatically revert to an independent trust controlled by me."
She leaned in close, whispering in his ear just as he had done to her the night before.
"As of seven o'clock this morning, the board of directors held an emergency vote based on the evidence we provided. You have been officially removed as CEO of Blackwood Enterprises. Your personal assets are frozen. And I am taking back my father's hotel."
May you like
Daniel’s eyes widened in sheer, horror-stricken realization. The confidence drained from his face, leaving behind a hollow, desperate shell.
The federal agents dragged him down the aisle, his designer suit rumpled, as news cameras flashed continuously, capturing his absolute humiliation for the entire world to see.
