Chapter 1 - The Glass Tent
Martin Ellis stared at his glowing phone screen with a look of absolute horror.
He looked up and locked eyes with my father.
My father’s confident smile completely vanished in a matter of seconds.
The string quartet abruptly stopped playing their elegant music.
Guests began murmuring loudly as they read the damning evidence sent directly to their devices.
My mother dropped her champagne glass onto the expensive marble floor.
The crystal shattered, but the sound was barely noticed over the rising panic in the room.
My father took a step toward me with his fists clenched tightly at his sides.
He demanded to know what I had just done to his company.
I simply stood my ground and told him that his empire of lies was officially over.
Vanessa grabbed my arm aggressively and hissed that I was ruining her perfect wedding day.
I shook off her hand and reminded her that everything she owned was bought with stolen money.
Martin Ellis aggressively shoved past a waiter and marched directly up to my father.
The billionaire investor demanded to know if the fraudulent bank transfers on his screen were real.
My father desperately tried to lie, claiming that my phone had been hacked by a disgruntled former employee.
Nobody in the room believed a single word he was saying.
I checked my phone, waiting for the expected confirmation message from my contact at the Securities and Exchange Commission.
The screen remained completely blank.
My father signaled to his head of security, a massive man named Vance.
Vance began walking purposefully toward me with a menacing glare.
I realized with a sudden chill that the federal agents were not waiting outside the estate as planned.
Vance reached out and grabbed my shoulder with a painful, crushing grip.
I tried to pull away, but he was far too strong.
Before he could drag me out of the tent, a young waiter bumped hard into his side.
The waiter dropped his silver tray, sending empty glasses crashing to the floor.
Vance cursed and raised his hand to strike the clumsy employee.
The waiter smoothly dodged the blow and pulled a dark, heavy pistol from beneath his uniform jacket.
He pressed the barrel directly against the head of security’s ribs.
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The waiter looked at me with intense, serious eyes.
He told me that if I wanted to live to see tomorrow, I needed to run right now.
