Chapter 9 - The Fall
The heavy iron gates of The Glass Summit opened, not for the guests to leave, but for the armada of FBI tactical vehicles and LAPD cruisers to swarm the property.
The influencers and tech moguls pressed themselves against the glass walls, their smartphones raised, live-streaming the raid. The ultimate clout-chasing moment was no longer the party; it was the downfall of the host.
Federal agents stormed the East Wing, their weapons drawn, flashlights cutting through the darkness.
"Sterling Croft! Hands where we can see them!" the lead agent roared, bursting into the office.
Croft didn't resist. He sat in his chair, completely numb, as the agents aggressively pulled him to his feet and slammed heavy steel handcuffs onto his wrists. The golden boy of Silicon Valley was hauled out of his own office, frog-marched past the flashing cameras of the very people he had sought to impress.
Marcus stood quietly in the corner, his canvas bag slung over his shoulder.
An FBI agent approached him. "Are you Marcus Vance?"
"I am," Marcus said calmly.
"We received the data dump you sent to the Cyber Crimes division," the agent said, his tone respectful. "Your exoneration paperwork is already being fast-tracked. Croft is going away for a long time."
"Thank you," Marcus nodded.
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"You're free to go, Mr. Vance," the agent said, stepping aside.
Marcus walked out of the office. He passed Croft in the hallway. The billionaire looked back at Marcus, his eyes filled with a terrifying, hollow despair. Marcus didn't smile. He didn't gloat. He simply walked past the ghost of his past, completely unbothered.
