Chapter 8 - The Doors Breach
Before anyone in the ballroom could fully process the detective’s words, a loud, violent booming sound echoed from the front of the mansion.
The mansion’s massive, heavy oak front doors burst open with explosive force, slamming hard against the interior walls.
Police officers in tactical gear poured into the grand foyer, their boots echoing like thunder against the marble floors. They moved with absolute precision, spreading out instantly, securing all the exits and completely surrounding the stunned, wealthy guests.
"Nobody move! Federal agents!" a voice roared over the chaos.
Behind the heavily armed officers walked a man in a sharp grey suit. He didn't carry an assault rifle, but he carried an aura of immense, undeniable authority. It was Detective Arthur Miller.
The guests backed away in pure terror, dropping their champagne glasses, raising their hands in the air. The string quartet had long since fled.
Detective Miller ignored the billionaires, the politicians, and the socialites. His sharp eyes immediately scanned the room and found Olivia lying on the floor at the base of the stairs.
His professional demeanor cracked for a fraction of a second. He hurried past the tactical teams, dropping to his knees by her side.
"Are you alright, Olivia?" Miller asked, his voice tight with genuine concern as he gently checked her pulse. "Paramedics are seconds away."
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She nodded weakly, wincing as she tried to sit up. She didn't look at him; she pointed a trembling finger directly toward the second-floor landing.
"I told you…" Olivia whispered, a faint, victorious smile touching her lips. "She would do it."
