Chapter 6 - The Fall of the House of Sloan
By four o'clock in the morning, the rain over Chicago had cleared, leaving the night sky dark, crisp, and washed clean.
The main atrium of the Sloan Medical Headquarters was filled with federal agents from the FBI, representatives from the Securities and Exchange Commission, and local police officers.
Dr. Arthur Sloan and Vivienne Sloan sat on a leather sofa in the center of the lobby, surrounded by four federal marshals. Arthur was slouched in his chair, his hands bound in steel handcuffs behind his back, staring blankly at the floor. Vivienne sat beside him, her ivory dress ruined, tears running down her face, screaming hysterically at her private attorneys, who were frantically making phone calls that no one was answering.
Standing near the double glass doors, watching the scene unfold, were Rowan Hale and Amani Rhodes.
Rowan was holding two hot paper cups of coffee he had obtained from a nearby break room. He handed one to Amani.
“Drink this,” Rowan said softly. “You’ve been awake for twenty-four hours.”
Amani took the warm cup, her fingers brushing against his. “Thank you, Mr. Hale.”
“Rowan,” he corrected gently, looking down into her eyes. “When a woman saves my life, exposes a six-billion-dollar conspiracy, and stands beside me while I destroy my enemies, she doesn't call me Mr. Hale.”
Amani felt a warm flush rise to her cheeks. A quiet, soft smile touched her lips. “Rowan.”
Thomas Vance walked over to them, carrying a thick legal folder. “The federal prosecutor just signed the formal indictments. Attempted murder, corporate fraud, conspiracy to commit treason, bio-terrorism, and grand extortion. Neither Arthur nor Vivienne will be granted bail.”
“What about Hale Continental stock?” Rowan asked.
“The board of directors convened an emergency session twenty minutes ago,” Vance reported with a wide grin. “When we released the physical chemical logs and the video of Arthur Sloan’s arrest, the stock bounced back up five hundred points. The board voted unanimously to reaffirm your absolute authority as CEO.”
Rowan nodded slowly, satisfied. He turned to look at Amani.
“And Miss Rhodes’s position?” Rowan asked Vance.
“The board ratified her appointment as Chief Compliance Officer with an annual executive retainer and full voting oversight on all internal security protocols,” Vance replied. “Her mother’s home mortgage in Cicero was paid off in full by the corporate legal fund ten minutes ago.”
Amani’s breath hitched in her throat. She looked at Rowan, her blue eyes filling with sudden, overwhelming tears.
“My mother’s house...” Amani whispered. “It’s... it’s free?”
Rowan reached out, his long, broad fingers gently wiping a single tear from her cheek. His touch was warm, soft, and fiercely protective.
“Your mother will never worry about a debt again, Amani,” Rowan said softly. “And neither will you.”
Before Amani could speak, a large group of national news journalists and camera crews flooded through the main entrance of the building, held back by police barricades.
A senior reporter from CNN held up a microphone, shouting over the noise: “Mr. Hale! Mr. Hale! Is it true that your house attendant uncovered a multi-million dollar chemical poisoning scheme? Will you be speaking to the press?”
Rowan looked at Amani. He extended his broad, warm hand toward her.
“Shall we give them an answer, Chief Compliance Officer Rhodes?” Rowan asked, a faint, rare smile breaking across his handsome face.
Amani looked at his hand, then up into his dark, steadfast eyes.
May you like
She took a deep breath, placed her small hand into his broad palm, and felt his fingers close firmly around hers—warm, strong, and unyielding.
Together, they walked out of the ruined atrium into the bright, flashing lights of the morning press, ready to show the world that the maid who had exposed a funeral was now standing as the queen of an empire.
