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Chapter 9 - THE ARREST ON THE MARBLE FLOOR

Daniel tried to run.

The moment he saw the yellow badges on the detectives' belts, survival instinct overtook his shock. He spun around, trying to shove past Martin Hayes toward the private service stairs behind the mezzanine corridor.

He didn't make it two steps.

The two hotel security guards grabbed his arms, sweeping his legs out from under him. Daniel hit the carpeted mezzanine floor hard with a loud thud.

"Daniel Whitaker!" the lead detective called out, stepping onto the mezzanine, pulling a pair of steel handcuffs from his tactical belt. "Stay down!"

"Get off me!" Daniel screamed, thrashing wildly, his face pressed against the carpet. "You don't know who I am! I am the CEO! Call my lawyers! Call Vanguard Capital!"

"You have the right to remain silent," the detective said calmly, kneeling on Daniel’s back and snapping the cold steel cuffs around his wrists with two sharp, metallic clicks. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

Down in the lobby, the crowd broke into wild, chaotic shouting. Photographers’ flashes flickered like lightning strikes, catching every second of the grand CEO of Vance Hospitality being pinned to the floor in his Tom Ford tuxedo.

The detective hauled Daniel up to his feet. His hair was ruined, his expensive suit jacket torn at the shoulder, his face flushed with tears of rage and absolute humiliation.

He looked at me as he was pushed toward the staircase.

"Claire!" he sobbed, his voice cracking with pure desperation. "Claire, please! Talk to them! We can fix this! I did it for us! I did it so we would be powerful! You know I love you!"

I stood by the brass railing, looking down at him with zero emotion left in my heart.

"You didn't love me, Daniel," I said softly, not even needing the microphone anymore. "You just loved the view from my father's office."

As the police led Daniel down the grand marble staircase in handcuffs, right past his horrified wedding guests, two second detectives walked down into the lobby toward Sophie Mercer.

"Sophie Mercer?" the female officer asked, pulling out a secondary warrant.

"No!" Sophie backed away, bumping into a champagne table, causing three crystal glasses to shatter on the floor. "I’m pregnant! You can't touch me! I didn't do anything! Daniel handled the money!"

"Miss Mercer, you are named as a co-conspirator in the grand larceny and tax evasion indictment," the officer stated firmly, pulling Sophie’s hands behind her pearl-encrusted back. "You have the right to remain silent."

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"Daniel!" Sophie shrieked, tears ruining her heavy bridal makeup as the steel cuffs clicked around her wrists. "Daniel, tell them! Tell them I didn't know!"

Daniel didn't even look back at her. He kept his head bowed, shoved forward by the officers through the crowd of flashing cameras, out into the rainy afternoon air where three patrol cars sat with their lights flashing red and blue against the white roses of Seacliff.

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