Chapter 11 - THE NIGHT THE SAINT WAS ARRESTED
Sebastian did not run.
Men like him rarely believe arrest is real until the handcuffs close.
Pritchard tried.
He reached a service corridor before Roman intercepted him and held him for officers.
Eric collapsed much faster.
The moment federal agents separated him from Sebastian, he began asking about cooperation.
Claire watched from a distance.
Once, Eric’s voice could make her question herself.
Now he looked exactly like what he had always been.
A frightened man willing to sell anybody standing between him and comfort.
Sebastian was charged first with conspiracy-related offenses tied to trafficking, financial crimes, obstruction, and the historical destruction of evidence. The Warehouse Seven homicide investigation reopened separately.
The evidence would take months to sort.
Maybe years.
That was fine.
Nathaniel did not want the quick satisfaction of revenge anymore.
He wanted records.
Trials.
Names.
Victims identified.
People rescued.
The ledger gave investigators container numbers still connected to active routes.
Within forty-eight hours, federal teams intercepted two shipments before they left the East Coast.
Eleven people were found alive.
When Nathaniel received that call, he sat alone in the west study.
Claire found him there.
He did not celebrate.
“Eleven,” he said.
She nodded.
“Eleven.”
“My brother would have liked that number.”
Claire sat beside him.
For a while, neither spoke.
Then Nathaniel looked down at his scarred hand.
“I spent ten years thinking I survived because I failed to stay with Julian.”
Claire understood.
Survivor’s guilt had become architecture inside him.
“Maybe you survived because someone needed to finish what he started.”
Nathaniel looked at her.
She reached across the desk and placed her hand over his.
May you like
He did not hide the scars.
Not anymore.
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