Chapter 7 - The Final Transfer
With a trembling, broken hand, David Sterling held the pen. Guided by Marcus, he signed his name across six different transfer deeds, assigning his accounts, his restaurant, and his assets over to Emily Carter.
At 11:59 PM, Marcus pressed Enter on his encrypted laptop.
【WIRE TRANSFER COMPLETE: $3,800,000.00 TRANSFERRED】 【PROPERTY DEED UPDATED: EMILY CARTER, SOLE OWNER】
A heavy, solemn chime echoed through the building as the grandfather clock began to strike midnight.
BONG. BONG. BONG.
Vincent turned to Captain Vance, who was cowering in his chair.
“Captain,” Vincent said smoothly. “You are going to take Mr. Sterling into custody right now. You will walk him into the Federal Building downtown, turn over all falsified records regarding Julian Carter’s death, and confess to your own bribery charges.”
Vance stared at him in disbelief. “If I do that, I’ll get twenty years in prison!”
“If you don't do that,” Vincent replied softly, leaning over the officer, “you won't survive the drive home tonight. The choice is yours.”
Vance’s shoulders slumped in total defeat. He slowly stood up, pulled out his second pair of handcuffs, and snapped them around David’s uninjured wrist, dragging the weeping restaurant owner toward the door.
As the two corrupt men were led away by Frank and two bodyguards, the room fell into a peaceful, quiet stillness.
Emily sat on the sofa, tears flowing freely down her face, but for the first time in four years, they were not tears of fear. They were tears of utter relief. The heavy, invisible chain that had been wrapped around her neck since the day Julian died had finally been shattered into dust.
Rory looked at her mother, then reached up with a small tissue to wipe Emily’s cheek.
“Don't cry, Mommy,” Rory whispered softly. “The bad man is gone.”
May you like
Emily pulled her daughter into a tight, desperate embrace, kissing her hair over and over again. “Yes, baby. He’s gone. He’s really gone.”
Vincent stood near the desk, watching them silently. He reached into his pocket, pulled out the simple, folded piece of notebook paper where Rory had drawn her work log and purple stars, and carefully smoothed out the creases.
