Chapter 8 - The Fall of Damian Cross
The glass front doors of the Vance Tower slid open, letting in a gust of cold, rainy wind.
Four federal agents in dark suits walked into the lobby, led by an officer with a silver badge pinned to his coat.
"Damian Cross?" the officer asked, stepping forward.
Damian stood frozen, his eyes wide with horror as he looked between Alexander, the yellow envelope, and the police officers. "No... no, wait! It's a mistake! Vance framed me!"
"You have the right to remain silent," the officer said coldly, grabbing Damian’s wrist and clicking pair of heavy steel handcuffs over his wrists. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You are under arrest for corporate espionage, computer fraud, and extortion."
"Ava!" Damian screamed as the agents began dragging him out toward the waiting police cars. "Ava, please! Tell them! Save me! I did all of this for us! I love you, Ava!"
Ava stood motionless, watching the man who had broken her heart, humiliated her, and tried to ruin her life get dragged away in handcuffs into the pouring Manhattan rain.
She didn't feel anger. She didn't feel joy. She felt a profound, peaceful sense of finality.
The red and blue light from the police cruisers flashed through the lobby windows, fading away into the dark night as the car drove off.
Damian Cross was gone. His career was over, his reputation destroyed, and his future bound for a federal prison cell.
The lobby returned to absolute silence.
Ava stood looking at the glass doors, taking a deep, long breath. It felt like the first real breath she had taken in six long months. The heavy weight that had rested on her chest since that 3:17 AM text message had finally vanished completely.
Alexander turned to her, his expression softening as he searched her face. "Are you okay?"
Ava looked up at him. She looked at his sharp jawline, his deep, expressive dark eyes, and the genuine concern written across his face.
"I'm better than okay," Ava said, a real, genuine smile touching her lips for the first time in months. "I'm free."
Alexander smiled back, offering her his hand. "Then let's go home, Ava."
She placed her hand in his, feeling the warmth of his fingers wrapping securely around hers.
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As they walked back toward the private elevator, Ava realized something startling. Sitting in that penthouse, wearing this expensive dress, holding Alexander’s hand... she didn't feel like a poor girl playing dress-up anymore.
She felt like she finally belonged.
