Sloane stopped, looked at him for a long second, and then looked away.

“The contract with the PR firm was signed by the corporate entity, Gavin,” Sloane said, her voice dry. “And since Cassandra owns the entity, I don’t think they work for you anymore.”

Gavin stared at her, his mouth open slightly in disbelief.

“Let’s go, Mr. Rourke,” the younger agent said, taking Gavin by the elbow.

Gavin pulled his arm away but began walking toward the double doors at the back of the courtroom.

I followed them at a distance, Marcus walking beside me.

The heavy wooden doors swung open, and we stepped out into the wide marble corridor of the Montgomery County courthouse.

The morning sun was streaming through the high arched windows, casting long shadows across the polished floor.

A small group of reporters had gathered near the elevators, tipped off by the sudden appearance of federal vehicles outside.

As soon as Gavin walked out, Agent Harris stepped in front of him.

“Gavin Rourke,” Agent Harris said, reading from a small white card. “You are under arrest for wire fraud, bank fraud, and corporate identity theft.”