Chapter 9 - The Fall of the Mask
While quiet peace settled over the family wing of the penthouse, down in the basement holding cells of Mercer Tower, reality was crashing down hard on Veronica Vale.
Stripped of her designer clothes, wearing a standard grey holding facility jumpsuit, Veronica sat on the edge of a steel bench under the harsh white fluorescent lights. Her hair was unwashed, her makeup smeared across her cheeks from hours of furious, useless crying.
The heavy steel door swung open with a loud metallic clank.
Two federal marshals stepped into the room, holding a thick stack of federal indictment paperwork.
“Stand up, Veronica,” the lead marshal commanded coldly. “You’re being transferred to the Metropolitan Correctional Center pending your arraignment on federal wire fraud, identity theft, and grand larceny charges.”
Veronica stood up, her eyes blazing with desperate fury. She slammed her fists against the metal table.
“Do you know who my family is? Do you know how many politicians and judges owe favors to my father?” she shrieked, her voice echoing off the concrete walls. “Ethan Mercer can’t do this to me! I made him! I gave him social standing! Without me, he’s just a lonely nerd hiding behind computer screens!”
The marshal didn't even blink. He grabbed her by the arm, slapping cold steel handcuffs around her wrists with professional indifference.
“Mr. Mercer isn't hiding anymore, Ms. Vale,” the marshal said flatly. “And your social standing just expired.”
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They hauled her out of the holding cell, dragging her kicking and screaming down the concrete hallway toward the armored transport van waiting in the subterranean garage.
As the van doors slammed shut, cutting off her hysterical screams, the city above continued to rain down over Manhattan, washing away the last remnants of her toxic legacy.
