I was eight months pregnant with our miracle baby when my husband brought his 22-year-old mistress to our baby shower. When I told them to go, he punched me in the stomach, making me fall into the table. "She's having the real heir, you useless woman," he scoffed as his rich parents cheered. The Countdown
Linda's hand flew to her collarbone where the beautiful platinum - and - diamond brooch sparkled against her silk dress.
"A high - definition pinhole lens," I whispered, my bloody smile getting wider.
"With a live satellite link straight to the Department of Justice's Financial Crimes Division. They've seen everything. They heard your father call me trash. They heard Ryan admit to shoving an eight - month - pregnant woman.
And most importantly... they heard you admit to using offshore tax havens three minutes before the cake was cut."
The FBI's Dramatic Arrival
Ryan's face went completely white.
"What did you say?"
Suddenly, the front door chime was drowned out by a loud, crashing sound.
A battering ram smashed through the big double mahogany front doors.
"FBI! Nobody move! Stay where you are!"
Screams filled the ballroom as fifty high - society guests panicked and backed away.
Vintage champagne spilled, and flower arrangements were knocked over.
A group of armed federal agents in tactical gear rushed into the room, their rifles raised.
Plainclothes investigators followed, carrying stack after stack of federal search warrants.
At the front of the group was Senior Special Agent Jake Reed, holding a thick leather binder.
Julian stepped back quickly, his face as pale as a ghost.
He grabbed Chloe's arm so tightly that she yelped in pain.
"Dad... what's going on? Tell them who we are!"
Arthur tried to step forward, trying to look in charge like he did in the boardroom.
"Officer, I'm Arthur Grant. This is a private home, and you're trespassing."
"Save it, Mr. Grant," Agent Reed interrupted, not even looking at him.
He motioned to the tactical team.
"Secure the perimeter. No one leaves. Seize all mobile devices, laptops, and hard drives right away."
Agent Reed walked past the billionaire and the shocked guests.
He dropped to one knee beside me on the floor.
His tough expression softened, and he motioned for a team of paramedics waiting in the foyer.
"Stacy," Reed said softly, reaching out to support my back.
"We got the audio feed. Are you okay?"
"The baby," I gasped.
Tears streamed down my face from the pain.
"He pushed me. I need to go to the hospital."
Reed's head snapped up.
His eyes locked onto Julian with a cold, angry look.
"Paramedics! I need a gurney in here now! Priority one!"
As the medical team rushed in with a stretcher, the ballroom turned into total chaos.
Beatrice was shouting as an agent took her phone and removed the diamond brooch from her dress, putting it in a clear biohazard evidence bag.
"You can't touch me! Do you know who my lawyers are?!"
"Your lawyers are getting search warrants at their Manhattan offices right now, Mrs. Grant," Agent Reed said, standing up and pulling a thick stack of arrest warrants from his coat pocket.
He turned to Arthur Grant.
"Arthur Grant, you're under arrest for federal racketeering, wire fraud, grand larceny, and conspiracy to commit tax evasion totaling four hundred and fifty million dollars."
Arthur's jaw trembled.
"You... you don't have the paper trail. The shell companies in the Caymans are completely hidden!"
The Unveiling and Arrests
They were dark, I gasped from the gurney as the paramedics gently lifted me.
They put on a neck brace and checked the baby's heart rate with a portable monitor.
Until I spent fourteen months digitizing your private ledgers, Arthur.
Every bribe you gave to city inspectors, every phony insurance claim, every fake offshore charity... it's all on a secure server in Washington.
Julian stared at me, his eyes wide with pure horror.
He looked like a guy who just realized the mild - mannered wife he'd been mistreating for six years was a fierce predator.
Clara...
Julian stammered.
He stepped toward the gurney, his hands shaking wildly.
Babe... please.
You're my wife.
We can work this out.
I...
I didn't mean to push you.
I was just stressed!
The baby...
Don't you touch her, Agent Thorne growled.
He stepped between Julian and the stretcher and pulled out another warrant.
I was eight months pregnant with our miracle baby when my husband brought his 22 - year - old mistress to our baby shower.
When I told them to leave, he punched me right in the stomach.
I crashed into the gift table.
She's carrying the real heir, you useless woman, he sneered while his rich parents clapped.
Julian Vance, you're under arrest for corporate forgery, being an accessory to grand fraud, and felony domestic battery of a pregnant woman.
Two federal agents grabbed Julian's arms.
They slammed him face - first onto the marble buffet table, right on top of the smashed "WELCOME, LITTLE ONE" cake.
The silver handcuffs clicked shut around his wrists.
Jules!
Do something!
Chloe shrieked.
She backed away towards the patio doors.
I don't have anything to do with this!
I'm just his girlfriend!
An investigator blocked her way and showed her a tablet screen.
Miss Chloe Sterling?
You're coming with us too.
We have wiretaps of you talking about a kickback scheme involving Julian's secondary shell account last Tuesday.
What?!
Chloe screamed.
Her glamorous look fell apart, and she started sobbing hysterically.
No!
He told me the money was clean!
He told me his wife was crazy!
As the paramedics wheeled me towards the front exit, I looked back one last time.
The powerful Vance dynasty was falling apart right before my eyes.
Arthur was having his rights read to him next to his grand piano.
Beatrice was crying on the rug, her expensive silk dress all messed up.
And Julian was staring at me, crying, with white frosting and blood from his split lip all over his face as the agents dragged him towards a waiting police van.
