Chapter 6 - The Fall of the Uncle
By 9:00 AM, news of Garrett Boyd’s arrest was tearing through the upper echelons of Chicago’s political and business elites.
Federal agents, acting on the mountain of encrypted files provided by Dorian’s legal team, raided the offices of Apex Maintenance, Vance Logistics, and the private residence of City Planning Commissioner Arthur Vance.
Dorian sat in the private study of his family’s historic estate in Gold Coast.
Across from him sat Arthur Vance—a silver-haired, distinguished-looking man of sixty-five who had spent his life convincing himself that he was smarter than the rest of the family.
"You're making a mistake, nephew," Arthur said smoothly, sipping a cup of espresso. "Family handles its business internally. You don't hand federal prosecutors a map to our financial network over a dead electrician and eighteen million dollars."
Dorian sat motionless, watching his uncle with cold detachment.
"You took money meant for safety systems on my sites, Arthur," Dorian said. "You let men die so you could fund your campaign for the state senate."
"Men die on construction sites every day, Dorian!" Arthur snapped, his polished facade cracking. "It’s the cost of doing business in a major city! We build skyscrapers! You think those towers go up without blood on the concrete? Your father knew it! I knew it!"
"My father is dead," Dorian said softly. "And you are about to join him in obscurity."
Arthur laughed bitterly. "You think a jury in this city will convict me? I've appointed half the judges in this district!"
"They won't need a jury," Dorian said, sliding a thick document across the desk. "This is a full asset forfeiture order signed by the United States District Court. Every account linked to your foundation, every property in your name, every offshore shell company has been frozen under the RICO Act. By noon today, you won't have enough money to pay a public defender."
Arthur’s face went pale. He snatched the paper, his eyes scanning the court seals at the bottom. "Dorian... you can't do this to your own blood..."
"You aren't my blood," Dorian replied, standing up. "My blood cared about honor. You're just a thief with a political title."
The doors to the study opened, and four FBI agents stepped into the room, led by a senior special agent holding an arrest warrant.
May you like
Arthur Vance sat frozen as the handcuffs were placed around his wrists. As he was led past Dorian, he looked at his nephew with pure venom. "You destroyed this family for a nobody!"
Dorian didn't answer. He watched his uncle get dragged out of the house, ending thirty years of political corruption with the quiet click of a heavy front door.
