Chapter 16 - The Wedding Day Arrest
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The FBI troopers swept onto the stage with ruthless efficiency.
Within minutes, steel handcuffs clicked around the wrists of Victor Mercer, Ryan, and Detective Elena Ward.
Logan Vance was dragged out from behind the podium, sobbing uncontrollably, his suit jacket torn, his hair disheveled. As the troopers forced him past me down the central aisle, he stopped, looking at me with bloodshot, desperate eyes.
"Maya... please..." Logan whimpered, tears streaming down his pale cheeks. "I was forced into it! Victor made me do it! I loved you, Maya! I still love you!"
I stepped closer to him, stopping inches from his face so he could look directly at the thick, crimson scars running across my right cheek and neck.
"You said it yourself, Logan," I whispered into his ear, my voice cold as winter steel. "After something like this, who else do you think would ever want to leave you?"
He flinched as if I had struck him with a whip.
"Take him away," Agent Miller ordered.
The troopers hauled Logan through the double doors out into the blinding glare of a hundred news vans parked along the street. The man who had spent five years manufacturing a perfect image was marched away in chains on the very day he was supposed to stand at an altar.
As the crowd cleared and the sirens began to wail outside, Rachel walked over to me, looking exhausted and broken.
May you like
"It's over," Rachel murmured, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
"No," I replied, looking toward the open glass doors leading out to the city. "It's just the beginning."
