Chapter 220: The Illusion Of Immunity

Chapter 220: Chapter 220: The Illusion Of Immunity

The heavy double doors of the Grand Pavilion clicked shut behind Jake, Aliya, and Catharine, cutting off the tense hum of the wedding hall.

Outside in the cool evening air, the courtyard was lined with high-end luxury sedans, valets standing at attention by the stone pillars. Kovacs held the rear door open for Aliya, while Elias held the passenger side for Catharine.

Jake stood on the top step for a moment, adjusting his collar as the night breeze cleared the lingering smell of expensive perfume and spilled scotch from his lungs.

"Jake?" Aliya called gently from inside the car.

"I’m right here," Jake said, sliding into the leather back seat beside her.

As Kovacs closed the door and the Maybach glided down the private driveway, Catharine turned around from the front seat. "You were incredible back there, Al. You didn’t flinch once."

Aliya looked out the tinted window at the illuminated glass facade of the Pavilion shrinking in the distance. "I thought I’d feel angry saying it all out loud. But watching him hide behind Derrick Roys’ name... it was just pathetic."

Jake pulled his phone from his blazer pocket, tapped his head of communications, and held it to his ear. "Distribute the files to the press portals and the regulatory oversight channels now."

"Understood, Mr. Rivers," the voice on the line answered.

Jake locked the screen, resting his arm on the door’s leather trim as he watched the passing streetlights.

"Jake," Catharine spoke up, her brow furrowing slightly as she looked back at him. "Leaking those drives... is it really going to do much? I mean, the medical records, the financial wire logs, the clinic receipts—that evidence is solid enough to put Alex behind bars for years."

"In a normal case, yes," Jake said plainly. "In this city, it should at least cause him a decent headache."

Catharine frowned, her eyebrows drawing together. "A headache? Jake, he coerced a private medical facility into performing an unauthorized procedure and forged medical records. How is that just a ’headache’?"

"Because of Derrick Roys," Jake replied smoothly. "No precinct captain, judge, or public prosecutor in the capital is willingly going to sign a formal indictment or push charges against someone actively managing state-level allocations handed out by Derrick. The moment the Roys name gets attached to a project, the legal system suddenly develops total amnesia."

Catharine let out a bitter, exasperated sigh, leaning back against her seat. "That’s ridiculous. So because he shook hands with the next patriarch, he gets a free pass on a literal crime? It’s completely unfair."

"That’s just how the hierarchy works here," Jake said quietly.

He didn’t add that when he had looked at Alex inside the hall, the glowing golden trend line floating above the man’s head had still been showing a strong, unbroken bullish momentum. The public scandal was a temporary dip, but as far as the city’s power structures were concerned, Alex’s connection to Derrick kept his standing secure.

’He really thinks Derrick is his impenetrable shield,’ Jake thought, his eyes narrowing slightly as he recalled his early morning conversation with Elizabeth.

Elizabeth had personally called him that morning to give him a heads-up. She had used their father’s authority to force Derrick out of the capital first thing in the morning, dispatching him straight back to his post at the northern military border. Hardly anyone in the capital even knew Derrick had briefly returned, let alone that he was already gone again.

Jake leaned his head back against the leather headrest, a faint, cold smile playing on his lips.

’Hopefully someone in the department is dumb enough to take on the case and make Alex sweat a little,’ Jake thought.

---

Back inside the Grand Pavilion, the heavy silence was slowly breaking.

Up on the stage, Alex adjusted his cuffs and squared his shoulders. The manic look in his eyes had faded, replaced by a smooth, arrogant smirk. He looked down at the guests, feeling entirely in control.

"Well?" Alex called out, his voice echoing through the hall. "Is anyone else planning on making a scene? Or can we finally get on with why we’re all here?"

Mrs. Livingston dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief, quickly fixing her posture. She turned to Mr. Brodick with a forced, sweet smile. "Mr. Brodick, you see how ridiculous that was? Just a bitter ex-girlfriend trying to ruin a monumental union. Thank goodness Alex had the foresight to secure Derrick’s personal backing."

Mr. Brodick didn’t answer right away. His brow was furrowed, his eyes darting between Alex and his own legal advisors sitting nearby.

Beside him, Anna took a slow step forward. Her initial shock had worn off, replaced by a sharp, calculating glint. The medical scandal was ugly, but in her world, scandals were managed by public relations teams. Access to Derrick Roys—the man lined up to take over the Roys family and eventually the nation’s military command—was something money couldn’t buy.

"Alex," Anna said, stepping closer to the altar, her voice calm and composed. "If Derrick Roys gave you those allocations, why weren’t they included in our initial merger draft?"

"Because Derrick requested discretion until the formal government announcement," Alex replied smoothly, stepping down to meet her. He took her hand, his tone oozing confidence. "I met with him privately at his estate. The Livingston Group is his primary vehicle for the northern expansion. Let Jake leak whatever petty files he wants. No state agency is going to touch a company managing Derrick Roys’ private allocations."

A ripple of quiet murmurings spread through the front rows.

"He’s right," a Ministry official whispered to a bank chairman next to him. "If Derrick Roys signed off on those freight lines, the prosecutor’s office will bury those medical reports before they ever see a courtroom."

"Still," the chairman muttered, wiping sweat from his forehead. "If there’s an investigation, the contract might get frozen."

"It won’t get frozen unless Derrick pulls it himself," the official replied anxiously. "And why would he pull it over a private civil dispute?"

Arthur Livingston let out a ragged breath, pulling out a silk handkerchief to wipe his face. "Yes... of course. Alex is right. Security, get this glass cleaned up! Maestro, play the march!"

The musicians quickly picked up their instruments, restarting the wedding procession. The catering staff moved fast, sweeping away the broken glass around Arthur’s feet.

Alex offered his arm to Anna, smiling warmly. "Shall we finish this, my clear-minded bride?"

Anna looked at his arm, then at her father, who gave a brief, stiff nod. "Let’s finish it," she said, sliding her arm through his.

They walked up the remaining steps to the altar. The pastor, looking thoroughly shaken but eager to finish, cleared his throat and opened his Bible.

"Dearly beloved..." the pastor began, his voice echoing over the quieted crowd.

While the pastor rushed through the traditional vows, Arthur Livingston stood near the front pillar, his eyes glued to his phone screen. News alerts were already popping up about Golden Investments releasing files to financial journalists.

’If the media pushes this hard enough, will the Ministry freeze our corporate accounts?’ Arthur thought, his heart hammering against his ribs. ’Derrick is backing us, but what if the political pressure gets too loud? What if the Roys family decides to stay silent until the news cycle dies down?’

Beside him, several board members were frantically texting their risk assessment teams. Everyone in the hall was on edge, terrified that the scandal would force the government to pause the multi-billion-dollar logistics tender.

Everyone except Alex.

Standing at the altar, holding Anna’s hands, Alex didn’t have a single doubt in his mind. He knew Derrick Roys wasn’t just some politician who bowed to public opinion. Derrick was an absolute authority. When Derrick gave a word, it stayed given. Derrick had personally messaged him that morning, explicitly stating that while military duties required him to leave the capital early, the Northern Freight Corridor grant was already locked into the Ministry’s private registry.

’Let Jake throw his little temper tantrum,’ Alex thought, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his lips as the pastor spoke. ’He thinks a few leaked documents can destroy me. He has no idea how high the mountain I’m standing on really is.’

"...and by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife," the pastor finished hurriedly, wiping his brow. "You may kiss the bride."

Alex leaned in and kissed Anna, the hall breaking into a polite, albeit tense, round of applause.

"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Livingston," Arthur breathed out, taking a step toward the altar, though his hands were still clammy with sweat as he checked his stock ticker.

Before Alex could even pull back from the kiss, the heavy double doors at the back of the pavilion burst open with a loud, violent slam.

The music cut out instantly. Guests turned in their seats, gasping as a group of five people marched down the central aisle.

At the front were three plainclothes detectives, led by a sharp-eyed young officer named Lawson. Behind them walked two uniformed officers from the Capital Police Department. Lawson held a thick, yellow case file folder under his arm, his expression stern and completely unbothered by the grand chandeliers or the sea of tuxedo-wearing elites staring at him.

Lawson had been sitting at his desk at the central precinct when the media drop went live on the public portal. When he brought the unredacted medical coercion logs to his senior captain, the captain had immediately told him to put the file away, lock it in a drawer, and wait until the division chief came back from dinner—a classic stall tactic to let the Livingston family’s lawyers intervene.

Lawson and his small squad, tired of watching high-society cases get swept under the rug before an intake report was even typed, logged the evidence into the central digital system themselves. They grabbed an emergency detention summons based on the verified hospital intake records and headed straight for the venue before their captain could officially pull their badges.

"Alex Livingston!" Lawson called out, his voice cutting through the high-arched pavilion.

Alex turned around slowly at the altar, his arm still around Anna’s waist, looking more irritated than concerned. "What is the meaning of this?"

Arthur rushed forward, his face pale with anger. "Hold on! Who authorized you to disrupt a private event? Do you have any idea who my legal counsel is?"

Lawson didn’t even look at Arthur. He stepped up to the edge of the altar, pulled a official summons document from his folder, and held it up.

"Mr. Alex Livingston, I am Detective Lawson with the Central District Criminal Investigation Division," Lawson said in a clear, measured voice. "You are required to accompany us to the central precinct immediately for questioning regarding an open investigation into criminal coercion, illegal solicitation of restricted medical procedures, and conspiracy to falsify medical records."

A collective murmur rippled through the front rows.

"Are you insane?!" Mrs. Livingston shrieked, clutching her pearl necklace. "Guards! Escort these people out of here right now!"

"I suggest your security stays back," Lawson warned, casting a sharp glance toward the venue guards who were stepping forward uncertainly. "We are executing a formal criminal detention summons entered into the city database. Interfering with officers executing an active summons is a felony obstruction charge."

Mr. Brodick stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he evaluated the young detective. "Officer, I advise you to step outside and call your precinct commander before you ruin your career. The Livingston Group is managing major state logistics allocations backed directly by Derrick Roys. If you create a public scene here—"

"Sir, the law doesn’t contain an exemption clause for corporate backing," Lawson interrupted plainly. "The evidence was logged, the file is open, and Mr. Livingston needs to come with us to give his statement."

The room fell into a tense, nervous silence. Cabinet ministers and bank chairmen exchanged uneasy glances. They were stunned that a low-level detective had the nerve to stand in a venue like this and brush off Derrick Roys’ name.

Arthur’s hands were shaking as he pulled out his phone, frantically trying to reach his legal team and the Chief of Police. "This is completely out of order... a rogue stunt..."

Anna instinctively took two steps back from Alex, her eyes wide as she looked at the uniformed officers waiting at the bottom of the altar stairs. "Alex... what is going on?"

Yet, standing right in front of the officers, Alex didn’t panic. He didn’t raise his voice, and he didn’t reach for his phone.

Instead, Alex looked down at Detective Lawson and let out a light, amused chuckle.

"You really are new to the capital, aren’t you, Detective?" Alex said smoothly, a mocking smirk spreading across his face as he held out his hands in a calm, casual gesture. "You actually think you’re doing something heroic tonight? You think bringing me in for a few hours is going to change a single thing?"

Lawson’s expression remained rigid. "Hands behind your back, Mr. Livingston."

The uniformed officer stepped up the altar stairs, pulled a pair of steel handcuffs from his utility belt, and clicked them around Alex’s wrists. The cold, metallic snap echoed sharply through the silent hall.

"Alex!" Mrs. Livingston gasped, leaning heavily against Arthur.

"It’s fine, Mother," Alex said easily, turning his head to look at his anxious parents, then at Anna, who was staring at his cuffed wrists in disbelief. "Let them waste their evening. It’s just a minor administrative annoyance."

Alex turned back to Lawson, his eyes full of smug, unwavering confidence as he leaned in slightly toward the detective.

"My backer operates at a level your precinct captain doesn’t even have the security clearance to address," Alex whispered, his tone dripping with absolute arrogance. "By midnight, your superiors are going to personally walk into that interrogation room, unlock these cuffs, hand me an apology, and purge that file from your system. Lead the way, Officer."

With his head held high and a confident smirk on his face, Alex allowed the officers to turn him around, walking down the center aisle of the Grand Pavilion as a newly married man in handcuffs, completely convinced that the authority of Derrick Roys made him entirely untouchable.

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