The heavy handcuffs clicked shut around Clara's wrists as she wept hysterically into her bridal veil.
Clara: Please, Mr. Vance! Have mercy on us! We can fix this!
Arthur Vance: Mercy is something you should have shown my daughter when she was lying on that marble floor.
Julian: Elena, please! Tell them to take these cuffs off! We share a son together!
Elena: You lost any right to call yourself a father the moment you raised your hand against me.
Federal Agent: Let's move. Time to check into your new accommodations.
The officers dragged the disgraced couple toward the grand double doors, their expensive designer shoes dragging across the floor.
Arthur knelt down beside Elena, gently helping her to her feet and dusting off the hem of her black evening dress.
Arthur Vance: Are you alright, sweetheart? Did they hurt you too badly?
Elena: I'm bruised, Dad, but I'm finally free.
Arthur Vance: Good. Because tomorrow morning, we start rebuilding the family business the right way.
Elena wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks, offering her father a warm, unwavering smile of triumph.
Elena: Let's go home, Dad. The night belongs to us now.
Arthur Vance: That's my girl. Justice always wins in the end.
The glittering chandeliers shone down on a peaceful ballroom, washing away the bitter echoes of the past forever.