Chapter 7 - Social Death and Legal Fire
Cassandra shrank back, her hands covering her face as the heavy, suffocating shame of the room crushed her.
"Dad..." Michael whimpered, falling to his knees right there on the boardroom carpet, tears streaming down his face. "Dad... I'm sorry... I was drunk... I was stressed... Cassandra was screaming at me all night... I didn't mean to hurt Mom..."
"You didn't mean to hurt her?" I asked, walking over to stand directly above him. "You stood there and watched her bleed, Michael. You walked over her like she was garbage so you could keep dancing in your rented ballroom."
Arthur Miller didn't say another word to defend his daughter. He looked at Cassandra with bitter, broken eyes, raised his hand, and delivered a backhanded slap across her face that knocked her to the ground.
"You ruined us!" Arthur sobbed, tears spilling over his cheeks. "You sociopathic little monster! You destroyed my life! You destroyed my company!"
Arthur turned and walked out of the boardroom, leaving Cassandra screaming on the floor.
At that moment, the heavy double doors opened once more.
Two detectives from the Chicago Police Department’s Special Investigations Unit walked into the room, accompanied by two uniformed officers.
"Michael Whitaker? Cassandra Miller?" Detective Harrison asked, pulling steel handcuffs from his belt.
Cassandra scrambled backward on the carpet in terror. "What?! Why are you here?!"
"You are both under arrest for Aggravated Battery, Felony Extortion, and Elder Abuse," Detective Harrison announced clearly. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."
"No! No!" Cassandra shrieked, kicking her legs as two officers grabbed her arms, twisting them behind her back and clicking the cold steel cuffs around her wrists. "Michael! Help me! Call a lawyer!"
Michael didn't move. He sat on his knees, staring at the carpet, allowing the deputy to pull his arms behind his back without resistance.
As they were dragged out of the boardroom in front of twenty of the city’s most influential leaders, press reporters who had been tipped off were waiting in the main lobby below. Flashbulbs began flashing continuously, capturing the high-profile heirs being led away in handcuffs.
By noon, the story was the lead headline on every major news network across the country:
May you like
HIGH-SOCIETY HORROR: TECH HEIR AND BRIDE ARRESTED FOR BRUTAL WEDDING-NIGHT ASSAULT ON MOTHER.
The social death was absolute.
