At 2 A.M., My Husband Took Everything—Then I Checked the Clock

"What is the meaning of this?!" Arthur yelled, puffing out his chest, attempting to use his familiar corporate arrogance. "Do you have any idea who I am?! I am Arthur Vance, Chief Executive of Vance Capital! I demand to see your supervisor!"

Special Agent Cole didn't blink. He pulled a laminated federal arrest warrant from his breast pocket, holding it three inches from Arthur's face.

"Arthur Vance, you are under arrest pursuant to a federal grand jury indictment for interstate wire fraud, aggravated identity theft, bank fraud, and felony grand larceny," Agent Cole announced, his voice booming through the boarding gate.

Sienna shrieked, dropping her designer handbag onto the carpet, backing away toward the glass windows. "Wait! This has nothing to do with me! I'm just his girlfriend! I didn't do anything!"

"Sienna Brooks," a female federal agent said, stepping in front of her. "You are named as a co-conspirator under Title 18 of the United States Code for managing the shell company Sienna Horizon LLC. Place your hands behind your back."

"No! Get away from me!" Sienna wailed, flailing her manicured hands.

The female agent effortlessly grabbed Sienna's wrists, pinning her arms behind her back.

Agent Cole stepped forward, his eyes locking onto the glittering diamonds around Sienna’s left wrist.

"Harry Winston custom-cut platinum tennis bracelet, serial number HW-99412," Agent Cole read from his official property seizure list. "Reported stolen from the Eleanor Vance Estate four weeks ago."

With a firm, deliberate click, the agent unclasped the heavy diamond bracelet from Sienna’s wrist, dropping it into a sterile plastic evidence bag.

"Arthur! Do something!" Sienna screamed, tears ruining her heavy makeup as the steel handcuffs clicked around her wrists. "You told me this was legal! You told me Eleanor gave you this bracelet!"

"Shut up, Sienna!" Arthur hissed, his face turning an ashen, sickly gray as two Marshals forced his arms behind his back.

The heavy metal cuffs locked around Arthur's wrists with a sharp, unforgiving CRACK.

As forty first-class passengers pulled out their smartphones, recording video of the billionaire executive being perp-walked down the airport terminal in handcuffs, Arthur looked at the giant departure board above his head.