The younger agent stepped behind Gavin and pulled his hands behind his back.

I heard the metallic click of handcuffs snapping into place.

The sound was clean and final.

Gavin struggled slightly, his expensive leather shoes slipping on the smooth marble.

“This is a mistake!” Gavin yelled, his voice echoing off the high ceiling. “I am the CEO of Rourke Regional! My wife is behind this!”

The reporters rushed forward, their camera lenses clicking rapidly as they captured the image of Gavin in handcuffs.

Sloane Pierce pulled her collar up and hurried toward the stairs, trying to avoid the cameras.

Philip Dane stood by the courtroom door, his briefcase in hand, watching his client get led away with a look of professional detachment.

I stood near the water fountain, watching the agents guide Gavin toward the secure service elevator at the end of the hall.

Gavin turned his head back, his eyes searching the crowd until he found me.

His face was pale, his hair disheveled, the arrogance completely gone from his expression.

I did not smile.

I did not wave.