Chapter 18 - The Arrest
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Owen, realizing his entire corporate career and financial future had just been completely obliterated, reverted to the only pathetic defense mechanism he had left: aggressive deflection.
He stood up, pointing a trembling, accusatory finger directly at me.
"She stole confidential corporate information!" Owen shouted, his voice cracking with desperation. "She illegally accessed my laptop and photographed restricted documents! You should be firing her, not me!"
Naomi Price did not blink. She stood her ground, her voice cutting through his hysteria like a frozen blade.
"She photographed a massive federal crime currently taking place inside her own private bedroom, Owen," Naomi replied coldly. "She acted as a protected corporate whistleblower. And furthermore, your ridiculous, desperate allegation does not explain why you brutally assaulted her immediately afterward to try and cover it up."
Owen’s mouth opened and closed, but absolutely no sound came out. He looked at my heavily splinted finger, finally realizing the true, inescapable weight of what he had done.
That was exactly when the heavy boardroom doors swung open for the second time that morning.
The seasoned police detective who had taken my statement at the precinct entered the room, flanked by two serious-looking uniformed officers holding handcuffs.
Owen’s face lost every single drop of remaining color. He collapsed back into his leather chair, trembling violently.
"Owen Mercer," the detective announced, his voice echoing loudly in the silent corporate boardroom, "you are under arrest for felony domestic assault, battery, and the deliberate destruction of evidence."
The detective looked over at Naomi. "We secured the doorbell camera footage from the neighbor across the street. It clearly shows him carrying Ms. Mercer’s smashed phone case and throwing it into a municipal trash bin at 2:00 a.m."
The officers hauled Owen roughly to his feet, pulling his arms behind his back and snapping the cold steel handcuffs around his wrists.
As they read him his Miranda rights, a second detective walked over to Dana Vale, who was currently sobbing uncontrollably into her hands. He dropped a thick stack of legal papers onto the mahogany table directly in front of her.
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"Dana Vale, you are officially being served with a federal search warrant related to commercial bribery, wire fraud, and criminal conspiracy," the detective stated firmly. "Do not attempt to leave the state."
The arrogant, untouchable couple who had laughed at me in my own bedroom just four days ago were completely, utterly destroyed.
