The little girl stood beside the elegant woman’s table, looking painfully out of place beneath the crystal chandeliers.

The rain pelted Arthur Vance’s face as he walked up the marble front steps of the smoking manor, satisfied that the gunfire inside was dying down.

He stepped over the shattered glass of the entrance, holding his gun at his side, a twisted, victorious smile playing on his lips.

"Eleanor!" Arthur called out, his voice echoing through the ruined, smoke-filled foyer. "It’s over! You should have just let the trust expire! You dragged that bastard child back here just to get her killed!"

"I brought my daughter home, Arthur," a voice echoed from the top of the grand staircase.

Arthur whipped around, raising his pistol.

Eleanor stood at the top of the stairs under the dim red emergency lights. She was completely unharmed, her posture straight, her eyes glaring down at him with pure disdain.

"You're too late, Arthur," Eleanor said calmly.

Arthur sneered, leveling his sight right at her chest. "It doesn't matter if I'm late. Once you and that child are dead, the board has no choice! The empire is mine!"

"Drop your weapon!" a thunderous voice roared from behind him.

Suddenly, floodlights mounted on police tactical vehicles blinded the courtyard outside! Dozens of sirens wailed as state troopers and Federal FBI agents swarmed the estate grounds, their red-and-blue strobe lights flashing through the shattered front doors!

Arthur panicked, swinging his gun toward the entrance, but Marcus Cole dropped from the second-floor balcony, slamming Arthur against the marble fountain!

The gun clattered across the floor. Marcus pinned Arthur’s arms behind his back, forcing him down onto his knees in the pool of dirty water.

Federal Agent Sarah Jenkins strode into the foyer, holding a high-definition recording device.

"Arthur Vance," Agent Jenkins declared, reading from a legal document. "You are under arrest for attempted murder, conspiracy to commit murder, human trafficking, and grand corporate fraud."

Arthur struggled against the steel handcuffs snapping around his wrists. "This is a setup! You have no proof! I was just visiting my sister-in-law!"

Eleanor slowly walked down the marble stairs, holding her pocket watch. She pressed a button on her tablet, broadcasting the audio captured by her estate’s security system over the past twenty minutes—including Arthur’s distinct voice shouting his confession in the foyer moments ago.

"Dr. Ethan Harrison was arrested at JFK Airport an hour ago trying to board a flight to Switzerland," Agent Jenkins added coolly. "He gave us twenty years of bank records linking every wire transfer directly to your personal accounts, Arthur."

Arthur’s face turned gray. The arrogance melted away, leaving behind a broken, pathetic coward.

As the federal agents dragged Arthur out into the stormy night in chains, Eleanor stood in the center of the hall, letting out a long, shuddering breath of relief.