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Chapter 777:
The moment the door closed, Easton’s encrypted phone rang. It was the lead FBI agent overseeing the raid.
“The team has arrived at Beasley Manor,” he reported. “Perimeter containment is complete. All exits are blocked p>
Easton opened his tablet and angled the screen toward June. It showed a real-time infrared thermal imaging feed from a police drone hovering silently above the estate. Ten unmarked tactical armored vans had sealed every entrance and exit to the manor. Thirty fully armed SWAT officers were moving across the overgrown lawn toward the main house, using the darkness for cover.
June stared at the red heat signature representing Richard—alone in the master bedroom on the second floor, entirely oblivious to the net closing around him.
Easton slid the tablet across the seat toward her. “Do you want me to order them to breach?” he asked, his voice carrying the weight of the moment.
𝗠𝗈𝘳e 𝘯o𝘃𝘦𝗅s oո 𝘨𝖺𝗅ոо𝘃e𝘭𝘀.со𝗆
June studied the screen. Her eyes were as cold and still as glacial ice. She shook her head, and a slow, deliberate smile curved her lips.
“No,” she said. “If we breach now, he’ll assume it’s another financial crimes investigation. That’s too easy for him. He deserves worse.” She paused. “I want to go there myself. I want to be the one to tell him that his own wife sent him to the electric chair. I want to watch the light leave his eyes when he realizes he has lost everything p>
Easton looked at the fire burning in her gaze and didn’t hesitate. He raised the phone. “Hold position. Stand by. We’ll be there in twenty minutes p>
The Maybach’s engine rumbled to life and surged into the night, speeding toward Long Island.
In the master bedroom of Beasley Manor, Richard stood at the floor-to-ceiling window, swirling a glass of fine wine, surveying what he still believed was his domain.
Lexi lay across the expensive silk bed that had once belonged to Susan, wearing a silk nightgown, one hand resting with practiced elegance over her flat stomach.
Richard turned to look at her, his eyes glowing with satisfaction. “That useless waste of space Alycia is gone,” he said. “Tomorrow the trust fund transfers, and we’ll get married in Switzerland. A perfect life—you, me, and our son p>
Lexi forced a smile and nodded, but her eyes kept drifting to the window. She knew June’s net was closing.
Richard drained the rest of his wine and refilled his glass, lost in his own delusions. He didn’t notice the faint flicker of tactical flashlights moving through the trees below.
Less than two miles away on the highway, Alycia sat in her Porsche on the shoulder of the road, staring at the frozen accounts on her phone.
Broke. Homeless. With nowhere left to go.
She started the engine, turned the car around, and drove back toward the manor—a ghost returning to the scene of her own destruction.
All the hatred, all the betrayal, all the unfinished reckonings were converging on Beasley Manor in the darkness. And the storm of total annihilation was about to break at June’s feet.