MY IN-LAWS BROKE MY BONES TO STEAL MY $50M LOGISTICS EMPIRE—THEY HAD NO IDEA MY CEILING CAMERA WAS STREAMING THEIR CRIME TO THE FBI

While Flynn and Greg were being escorted out through the Plaza’s main lobby in full view of forty paparazzi crews, the federal task force was already executing search warrants across the state.

Candice Reed had not managed to leave the ballroom.

She stood trapped near the grand piano, her scarlet silk dress trembling, clutching her designer clutch like a shield. Two female agents from the Internal Revenue Service Criminal Investigation division stood on either side of her.

"Ms. Reed," Phoebe said, walking over with a manila folder in hand. "I think you and I need to have a very quick, very honest conversation before you spend the night at the Metropolitan Correctional Center."

Candice’s eyes were wild with fear. "I didn't break anyone’s leg! I was at the restaurant that night! I didn't touch Mabel!"

"No, you didn't touch her," Phoebe agreed calmly, opening the folder. "What you did was alter the digital personnel records and board proxy authorizations using your administrative HR credentials to allow Flynn to execute Resolution 409 without Mabel’s notification. You also received two hundred and fifty thousand dollars into your personal checking account from Seaborne Assets LLC three weeks ago, marked as a 'special executive bonus.'"

Candice choked back a sob. "Flynn told me it was an authorized dividend! He told me Mabel was manic-depressive and trying to destroy the company from the inside! He swore he was going to marry me once the divorce went through!"

"Flynn Vance would have traded you for a get-out-of-jail-free card five minutes ago if he had the chance," I said, rolling my wheelchair up beside Phoebe.

Candice looked down at me, her face streaked with mascara, completely humiliated. "Mabel... please. I was stupid. I believed him. He said he had all the power."

"You have exactly thirty minutes to decide whose side you are on, Candice," I told her, my voice devoid of pity. "You can be Flynn’s co-conspirator in a federal RICO indictment, or you can sit down in the U.S. Attorney’s office tonight and hand over every email, every encrypted WhatsApp chat, and every offshore account routing number Flynn ever shared with you. Special Agent Marcus is offering a non-prosecution cooperation agreement for the first person who signs."

Candice didn't even hesitate for three seconds.

"He has a second laptop," Candice blurted out, tears streaming down her face. "A customized ThinkPad hidden inside the false bottom of his humidor in the Alpine estate study. It contains the private keys to three hardware crypto wallets holding twelve million dollars in untaxed shipping kickbacks from the Mediterranean routes. I helped him set up the Binance accounts!"

Phoebe exchanged a swift, victorious glance with Special Agent Marcus.

"Get her into a transport vehicle," Marcus ordered his agents. "And dispatch Team Four to the Alpine estate immediately. Secure that humidor."

As Candice was led away, Eleanor Vance was still screaming in the center of the ballroom as an agent unclasped the three-million-dollar emerald necklace from her neck, placing it into a clear, tamper-evident evidence bag.

"My jewelry!" Eleanor wailed, her aristocratic dignity completely shattered as she flailed against the female agents holding her arms. "That is family property! You peasants! You have no right!"

"Actually, Eleanor," I said, pausing my wheelchair directly in front of her. "That necklace was purchased with stolen client funds. And as of eight o'clock tonight, the bank has officially initiated foreclosure proceedings on the Alpine estate. By next Friday, the locks will be changed. You won't even have a roof over your head, let alone emeralds."