Chapter 8 - Fall of an Empire
The double glass doors of the boardroom opened.
Four armed private security guards walked in, stepping behind Christopher’s chair.
"Get your hands off me!" Christopher screamed, shoving a guard’s hand away as he staggered backward toward the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. "I built this tower! I put my name on the top of this building! You can't throw me out like a dog!"
"Your name is coming off the building by noon today, Christopher," I said, standing up from my seat and smoothing my crimson jacket. "And by 2:00 PM, the sign on the front lobby will read Vance Global Enterprises, just as my father originally intended."
Christopher looked around the table, desperately searching the faces of the men he had golfed with, dined with, and done business with for two decades.
Every single board member turned their head away, refusing to make eye contact with him.
"Arthur... please," Christopher begged, his voice breaking into a pitiful whimper. "We’ve been friends for twenty years! Talk to her!"
"You tried to poison your wife and steal her father's legacy, Christopher," Arthur said coldly, looking down at his paper files. "You aren't a businessman. You’re a liability."
Before Christopher could say another word, the outer doors of the executive suite swung open once again.
This time, it wasn't private security.
Four federal agents wearing dark blue jackets with FBI printed in yellow across their chests marched into the boardroom, led by a stern female Assistant United States Attorney.
"Christopher Albright?" the Lead Agent asked, pulling a federal arrest warrant from his inner pocket.
Christopher collapsed back into his leather chair, his hands trembling violently. "Yes..."
"You are under arrest by order of the United States District Court for the Central District of California," the agent read in a crisp, unemotional tone. "The charges include federal wire fraud, bank fraud, tax evasion, money laundering, and illegal transfer of capital to foreign entities."
The agent stepped behind Christopher, pulling his arms back.
CLICK. CLICK.
The heavy steel handcuffs snapped around Christopher’s wrists.
The board members pulled out their phones, snapping photos and videos of the founder of Albright Global being handcuffed in his own boardroom.
The FBI agents turned Christopher around, walking him down the long glass hallway toward the private executive elevator.
Employees lined the hallway on both sides, watching in absolute silence as their former boss was led away in shame.
As he reached the elevator doors, Christopher turned his head back one last time, staring at Luke and me standing outside the boardroom doors.
"Vivian... Luke..." he choked out, tears finally spilling down his hollow cheeks. "Please... don't do this to me... I’m your father!"
Luke stood tall beside me, his hands thrust calmly into his trouser pockets.
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"My father died years ago, Christopher," Luke said softly as the elevator doors began to close. "You were just a man living in his house."
The silver elevator doors slid shut, cutting off Christopher’s weeping face forever.
