Chapter 7 - The Federal Sweep
The sound of heavy tactical boots slamming against the marble floor echoed through the sacred silence of St. Augustine Cathedral.
A dozen federal marshals and FBI agents, led by the U.S. Attorney for the Northern District of Illinois, marched down the central aisle in precise, military formation. Flanking them were four Chicago Police detectives.
Panic erupted instantly among the guests. Several prominent socialites screamed, while politicians and corporate executives scrambled backward into the pews, desperately reaching for their phones or looking for side exits.
“Vincent DeMarco! Damian Kensington!” the lead federal prosecutor shouted, holding up a thick stack of federal arrest warrants. “You are under arrest for corporate fraud, wire embezzlement, money laundering, and conspiracy to commit murder!”
Damian Kensington turned deathly pale, stumbling backward against the baptismal font. “This is an outrage! We are respected citizens! Where is the proof? Gabriel, you ungrateful bastard, stop them!”
Vincent tried to reach into his coat pocket for his phone, but two federal agents tackled him against the wooden pew before he could draw his weapon, slamming steel handcuffs onto his wrists with a sharp, metallic click.
Isabella stared in absolute horror as agents surrounded the altar. She looked at Gabriel, her mask of cold perfection finally shattering completely.
“You... you set us up,” she whispered, her voice trembling with hysteria. “You ruined everything! You chose a fat, worthless secretary over me? Over our empire?”
Gabriel stepped forward, towering over her in his bespoke tuxedo. His face was a mask of cold, unyielding granite.
“Evelyn Beckett isn't worthless, Isabella,” Gabriel said, his voice ringing out clearly across the silent cathedral. “She’s the only person in this entire city with enough intelligence to see through your lies, and enough courage to save my life while you were planning to bury me at sea.”
May you like
He turned to the federal agents.
“Take them all,” Gabriel ordered. “Every last one of them.”
