“You can’t do this to us!” she screamed, her perfectly coiffed hair falling in wild strands across her face.

Frank, realizing his empire of arrogance was collapsing, roared and foolishly swung a heavy fist at the nearest federal agent.

It was over in an instant. Frank was pinned face-down on the shattered glass of his own hallway, his wrists locked behind his back, a boot planted between his shoulder blades.

As they dragged Dean toward the shattered front door, he dug his heels into the carpet, forcing them to stop. He twisted his head, his eyes burning with hatred and disbelief, staring at me.

“You did this,” he breathed.

I pushed off the doorframe. My legs were steadier now, the dizziness replaced by a rushing tide of adrenaline and vindication. I stepped close enough for him to hear me clearly.