Elena used her free hand to shove Arthur's wrist away with explosive force, sending him staggering back against the refrigerator.
Elena: You've had your fun tonight, Arthur. Now it's my turn.
Before Arthur could recover his balance, Elena pulled back her right hand and struck him across the face with full, unmitigated force.
Arthur: Agh! You broke my jaw!
The explosive sound of the slap echoed through the kitchen like a gunshot, followed by a collective gasp from the livestream chat notifications pinging on Chloe's phone. Margaret froze instantly in the center of the kitchen, her jaw dropping open in sheer, unadulterated shock.
Margaret: You... you hit my son!
Elena: I returned a favor, Margaret. Feel free to take notes.
Chloe dropped her phone to her side, her face draining of all color as she stared at Elena as if she were a ghost.
Chloe: Delete the stream! Shut it down right now!
Elena: Too late, Chloe. The federal prosecutors have already downloaded the entire broadcast archive.
Arthur: You're lying! There are no federal agents involved in this!
Elena: Are you sure about that, Arthur? Look out the front window.
A sudden flash of red and blue light painted the kitchen walls in violent, rhythmic strokes as a convoy of heavy tactical vehicles pulled up directly onto the front lawn. Tires crunched loudly against the gravel driveway before car doors slammed shut in unison.
Margaret: What is that flashing light? Is that the police?!
Elena: Not just local police, Margaret. Federal marshals and white-collar crime investigators.
Arthur clutched his swollen cheek, his eyes darting frantically toward the back exit as the heavy front doors of the mansion were rattled by powerful knocks.
Arthur: This is a mistake! We can pay you off! Name your price!
Elena: My price was always honesty, Arthur. But you chose embezzlement, abuse, and public humiliation instead.
Chloe: Please, Elena! Tell them it was just a prank for social media! Tell them we were just joking!
Elena: A prank? Tell that to the judge when you're facing charges for conspiracy and cyber-harassment.
Margaret grabbed a kitchen chair for support, her knees buckling beneath her expensive velvet dress as she watched the shadow of armed officers through the frosted glass doors.
Margaret: We are the Vance family! You can't do this to us!
Elena: The Vance family name died the moment you decided to treat human beings like your personal slaves.
Arthur lunged toward the counter to grab his car keys, but the kitchen doorway exploded inward as federal agents in tactical gear flooded the room.