Devil's Captive (Fallen Dynasty 1)

“Violet, you get prettier every year.” A man with a southern twang in his voice walked up behind me.

“Mr. Hawthorne!” I smiled as I turned around hugged the older man who always gave me candy when I was younger. “How is retirement treating you?”

“Not as well as I would like.” He chuckled as he wrapped his arms around me in a warm embrace. “My son is an idiot, so I’m still making all of the important decisions—I’ll probably still be making them from the grave at this rate.”

“Aw, you’ve got a long time before you have to worry about that.” I leaned back from our embrace and nodded.

“What he needs is a wife—someone that can kick his ass when I’m not around to do it. I don’t suppose you would be interested…” His voice trailed off and he winked.

“I adore Steven, but he’s not exactly my type.” I winced.

“Yeah.” Mr. Hawthorne exhaled sharply. “He’s a douchebag.”

That was about as accurate a description as I could think of for Steven Hawthorne. He was a playboy who believed he was god’s gift to my gender, and his arrogance was annoying. He was also the first guy I dated—and it didn’t go well—nor did we have a second date after the first one was an abysmal nightmare.

I continued making my rounds until I met everyone and then it was time to open presents. Mr. Hawthorne got me a beautiful diamond necklace, Annie got me a Louis Vuitton purse that was one-of-a-kind, and there were so many pairs of red-soled Christian Louboutin shoes that I would probably need a new closet—I guess word of my shoe addiction had spread after I made a big deal over the ones I got at my birthday party the previous year. The gift that I was most excited about was the brand-new red BMW Zagato Coupe that my father bought for me. I was just about to slip out the side door and take Annie for a spin when Raymond Grant, one of my father’s attorneys, came running through the front door with sweat pouring down his face.

“Mr. Cabot! Mr. Cabot!” His tone was hurried, and he was practically yelling.

“Raymond? What’s going on?” My father looked concerned as he walked towards the sweat-soaked man who had a look of terror on his face.

Raymond never got a chance to explain—he didn’t have to. The front door was pushed open again and several men came storming in—men in suits—men with badges—men with a warrant for my father’s arrest. I ran towards my father and screamed when one of those men presented a pair of handcuffs and told him to turn around. I would have probably put the heel of my shoe through someone’s eye to protect my father if Mr. Hawthorne hadn’t grabbed me by the waist. Mr. Hawthorne held me tight, even when I kicked at him to try and get free.

“It’s okay Violet! The lawyers will figure this out!” My father tried to give me a reassuring look—but then he was dragged away.

There was a stunned silence in the room except for my screaming. Tears were streaming down my face and when Mr. Hawthorne finally released me, I ran to the door in time to watch my father get roughly shoved into the back of a black sedan. Then he was gone. I sank to my knees in despair as people tried to console me, but most of them decided that it was time to leave—the party was over. By the time I found the energy to blink, Mr. Hawthorne, Raymond Grant, and Annie were the only guests left—even the members of my family that attended my party had made a hasty exit.

“Come on, Violet.” I heard Maria’s voice and felt her hands on my shoulders. “I think you need a drink.”

“What happened?” I looked to Raymond for answers as I walked back inside my house.

“It’s bad, Violet.” He exhaled sharply and I saw his hands tremble. “It’s really bad.”

“I don’t understand.” I took a step towards him. “What are they accusing him of?”

“Money laundering.” Raymond swallowed hard. “To fund domestic terrorism.”

“What!?” My mouth fell open. “He would never do that! Cabot Enterprises has a contract with the Department of Defense!”

“Which is why they’re talking about upgrading that charge to treason.” He quickly looked down at the floor.

“They’re seizing his assets.” Raymond lifted his head slowly. “The bank accounts are frozen and agents with a search warrant are coming. I begged them to wait, but they only let me know as a courtesy—once they were already on their way to arrest your father.”

In the hours that followed, Cabot Estate wasn’t just searched—it was ransacked. They took every electronic device in the house, including my personal laptop and cell phone. Anything that could have been used by my father was subject to the warrant. All I could do was sit in the middle of the living room and watch as the agents completed their search, tossing my memories around like they were garbage. They even knocked a picture of my mother off the wall and I nearly lost it when I watched one of the agents step on it.