Chapter 5 - Fire on the Hudson
The federal agents didn't wait for morning. Within an hour of the dinner party collapsing into chaos, federal marshals and state police swept through Larks Hill, seizing documents, hard drives, and asset portfolios from Marcus's private wing. Marcus was led out through the grand double doors in silver handcuffs, his face twisted in a silent, venomous rage as he realized every single escape route he had spent twenty years building had been systematically blocked by my team.
By 3:00 AM, the mansion finally fell quiet. The guests were gone, the investigators had packed up their equipment, and the heavy rain had started again, washing the limestone steps outside.
I found Noel standing on the east garden steps where I had first seen her four nights ago. She had changed out of her uniform into her own simple coat, her wooden paint box clutched tightly in her hands. She was looking down at the river, watching the distant lights of cargo barges cutting through the dark water.
I walked out behind her, stopping a few feet away, careful not to startle her.
"You don't have to pack," I said quietly.
She turned her head, looking at me with a mixture of exhaustion and profound relief. "My work here is done, Dante. The truth is out. My father's name is cleared, and your family's empire won't be run by a monster anymore. There's nothing left for me in this house."
"There's the rest of the garden," I replied, taking a step closer. "The parts you haven't painted yet."
She stared at me for a long, quiet moment, the wind blowing a stray lock of dark hair across her cheek. Slowly, a faint, genuine smile touched the corners of her mouth—the first real smile I had ever seen on her face.
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"You know, Mr. Ferrante," she murmured, her voice soft against the sound of the rain, "you're nothing like the men your family raised you to be."
"Neither are you," I answered.
