Chapter 4 - The Federal Entrance
Before Grant could attempt another pathetic plea, the heavy oak doors at the back of the ballroom burst open for the second time that night.
The flashing red and blue lights of law enforcement vehicles were visible through the lobby windows. A dozen federal agents, wearing dark windbreakers with the letters FBI emblazoned across their backs, marched into the gala. The remaining donors scrambled backward, clearing a massive path.
"Grant Hawthorne!" the lead agent barked, holding up a federal warrant. "You are under arrest for wire fraud, money laundering, and the embezzlement of funds from a registered 501(c)(3) charitable organization. Keep your hands where I can see them!"
Eleanor let out a blood-curdling scream as two agents grabbed her son, hauling him roughly to his feet and pulling his arms behind his back. The sharp, metallic click of the steel handcuffs echoing in the ballroom was the most beautiful symphony I had ever heard.
"Get your hands off him!" Eleanor shrieked, rushing forward and striking an agent on the shoulder.
"Ma'am, step back," the agent warned, but Eleanor was completely unhinged. She swung her heavy designer purse, catching the agent in the jaw.
"Eleanor Hawthorne," a second agent said calmly, pulling a separate set of cuffs from his belt. "You are under arrest for assaulting a federal officer and conspiracy to commit wire fraud. Put your hands behind your back."
"I am a Hawthorne!" she screamed, thrashing wildly as they slammed her against the nearest banquet table, knocking over a tower of champagne glasses. "You can't do this to me! Vivian, tell them to stop!"
I stood perfectly still, watching the two people who had systematically tried to destroy my sanity and steal my family’s legacy being dragged out of the ballroom in handcuffs. Grant didn't even look at me as he was led away; his head hung in absolute, crushing defeat.
Daniel Mercer stepped up beside me, handing me a glass of untouched champagne.
"The board just convened an emergency vote in the coatroom," Daniel murmured, a rare, genuine smile touching his lips. "Grant has been unanimously removed from all positions of power. You are the sole executive director of the Archer Foundation."
May you like
I took the glass, the diamonds of my father’s bracelet catching the light of the chandeliers. I looked around the room. The donors weren't looking at me with pity. They weren't looking at me with suspicion. They were looking at me with profound, unshakeable respect.
"Thank you, Daniel," I said softly, taking a sip of the champagne. "Now, let’s get back to raising money for the children. We have a gala to finish."
