Chapter 13 - The Federal Raid

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The federal raid happened on a Tuesday morning, exactly one week after the Halcyon gala.

Three black SUVs pulled up to the Langford Hotel, where Graham had relocated after being evicted from the townhouse. A dozen agents wearing FBI windbreakers swarmed the lobby, completely ignoring the protests of the hotel concierge.

Graham was in the middle of screaming at a junior defense attorney on the phone when the heavy wooden door of his suite was kicked open.

“Graham Cole, you are under arrest for wire fraud, corporate embezzlement, and violation of the Securities Exchange Act,” a stern-faced federal agent announced, stepping into the room with his hand resting on his holstered weapon.

“This is a mistake!” Graham yelled, dropping his phone. He backed away, his hands raised in a panic. “My wife is framing me! She hacked my servers! You need to investigate Avery Cole!”

“Turn around and place your hands behind your back,” the agent ordered, completely ignoring the frantic defense.

Two agents grabbed Graham by the shoulders, spinning him around and snapping heavy metal handcuffs onto his wrists. The cold steel bit into his skin. For the first time in his privileged, wealthy life, his silver tongue could not buy him out of consequences.

Agents were already tearing the suite apart, boxing up his laptops, his hidden hard drives, and the encrypted ledgers he thought I had never found.

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As they marched him out of the hotel lobby, a swarm of paparazzi was waiting. The flashbulbs blinded him. He tried to hide his face behind his shoulder, humiliated, broken, and entirely exposed.

I watched the live broadcast of his arrest from the massive flat-screen television in my solarium. I didn't smile. I didn't cheer. I simply took a sip of my decaf coffee and turned the television off. The garbage had finally been taken out.