Chapter 11 - The Fall of the Sinclair Empire
By the following month, the Sinclair Logistics empire had collapsed like a house of cards built on quicksand.
Every morning, the front pages of the Chicago Tribune and the Wall Street Journal featured fresh revelations from the documents Dela had compiled during her seven months as a waitress.
“BILLION-DOLLAR PORT SMUGGLING RING DISMANTLED.”
“SENIOR JUDGES AND POLICE CAPTAINS INDICTED IN WATERFRONT CORRUPTION PROBE.”
“SINCLAIR ASSETS LIQUIDATED AT AUCTION TO PAY RECORD-SETTING WRONGFUL DEATH SETTLEMENT.”
Arthur Sinclair was sentenced to thirty-five years without the possibility of parole at the federal penitentiary in Terre Haute.
Julian Sinclair received eighteen years after turning state’s evidence against nine other corrupt dock bosses.
Margot Sinclair, stripped of her family’s wealth, trust funds, and social standing, was forced to surrender her high-rise penthouse to satisfy the bankruptcy court’s restitution orders.
She was last seen by the society columnists working behind the counter of a boutique consignment shop in suburban Naperville—wearing ordinary shoes, without a diamond in sight.
Meanwhile, the Meridian Tower underwent its own silent revolution.
The back-of-house staff received an immediate sixty percent wage increase, comprehensive private medical insurance, and an independent union contract drafted by Delilah Hawthorne herself.
Teddy Brightwater was promoted to Director of Hospitality Operations, with an executive office on the forty-second floor overlooking the lake.
“I don't know what to do with a desk,” Teddy complained to Dela over morning coffee in the newly renovated pantry. “There’s no stove to bang on.”
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“You can start by approving the new maternity leave policy,” Dela smiled, sliding a leather folder across the desk.
Teddy grinned, her gray eyes twinkling. “Now that... that I can do.”
