Chapter 8 - The Federal Checkmate
"She didn't hack anything, Beatrice."
The third man Clara had emailed stepped out from the aisle. It was Mark's uncle, the lead investigator for the IRS financial crimes division. He marched straight toward his panicking sister-in-law, looking at her with pure, unadulterated disgust.
"She simply recorded a conversation," the investigator stated coldly, holding up his own phone. "But what I find incredibly interesting is your mention of offshore creditors. The exact same creditors the IRS has been tracking for two years regarding massive tax evasion."
Beatrice stopped breathing. The blood in her veins turned to absolute ice.
"You set us up!" Beatrice roared, entirely losing her mind. She lunged aggressively toward the altar, her manicured hands raised like claws, intending to physically attack Clara.
But Mark's uncle moved with explosive tactical speed. He intercepted Beatrice perfectly, grabbing her wrist and violently twisting her arm behind her back.
Beatrice crashed hard to her knees on the manicured grass, her expensive dark lace gown tearing loudly.
"Let go of me!" Beatrice wailed pathetically, thrashing and kicking wildly. "I am the matriarch of this family! I demand to speak to my lawyers!"
"You can speak to them in federal custody," the investigator replied, pulling a pair of heavy steel handcuffs from his belt.
The cold metal clicked loudly around Beatrice’s wrists, snapping the arrogant thief back into the horrific reality of her crimes.
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Mark let out a horrific, blood-curdling scream of pure despair as he watched his mother get arrested. He turned to run, but two off-duty police officers attending the wedding immediately tackled the groom to the ground, pinning him into the dirt.
👉 What absolute, brutal justice is waiting for the fraudulent groom?
