Chapter 1 CHATTER1 Arrest

Ariana Ross was putting the final touches on her nearly finished painting in her small, modest art studio when her phone rang. Her art studio, no bigger than a small bedroom, smelled faintly of paint thinner and dry clay. Sunlight streamed through the dusty window, catching flecks of color on her apron. She wiped her hands on her paint-stained apron and picked up the call.

"Hello?" she said, her voice calm but curious.

The voice on the other end was tense. "Miss Ross, your father has been arrested."

Her breath hitched. "What? Why?"

"I don't know all the details, but you need to get to the police station."

Without another word, she dropped her brush onto the palette, grabbed her bag, and rushed out the door. She hailed a cab to the police station which the caller had mentioned.

---

Cross Enterprise, the modest family business that produced handmade furniture, had always been steady. It wasn't glamorous, but it brought in enough-over a million in revenue each year. Still, Ariana knew things hadn't been good lately. Bills were piling up, orders were slowing, and her father, Cameron Ross, had been visibly stressed. But arrested? That didn't make sense.

Her grandfather, Lachlan Ross, was in the hospital, recovering from a heart condition. He had no idea the company was struggling, and now this? She couldn't even tell him-the shock might make things worse.

---

The police station was crowded when she arrived. Officers moved briskly and people murmured in hushed tones. Ariana approached the front desk, her fingers gripping the strap of her bag tightly.

"I'm here for Cameron Ross," she said, forcing her voice steady.

The officer behind the counter glanced at his computer. "Name?"

"Ariana Ross. His daughter."

He nodded and picked up a phone. After a short conversation, he motioned for her to wait.

A few minutes later, a detective stepped out. "Miss Ross? Follow me."

She walked beside him, her mind racing. "What's going on? Why was my father arrested?"

The detective sighed. "Fraud allegations. Someone reported financial misconduct at Cross Enterprise."

Ariana's stomach dropped. "That's impossible. My father would never-"

"We're still investigating," the detective interrupted. "You can see him, but he won't be released yet."

She clenched her hands into fists. This had to be a mistake. Or worse-someone had set him up.

---

Her heart pounded as he opened the door to a small interview room.

Inside, her father sat alone at the table, shoulders slumped, his usually calm eyes filled with something she rarely saw in him-defeat.

Cameron Ross looked exhausted when she saw him. His usual confident posture was slumped, and his eyes were tired.

"Dad," Ariana whispered, sitting across from him. "What happened?"

He looked up. "Ariana." His voice was hoarse. "I didn't do anything. I swear to you."

She took the seat across from him. "They said you were suspected of fraud and tax evasion...Why would they say that?"

He rubbed his face. "I don't know, Ari. The materials were fine-at least, I thought they were. Then suddenly, the police showed up at the office."

"Who would do this?"

He shook his head. "I've been trying to figure that out. Maybe a competitor. Maybe someone inside the company."

Ariana swallowed hard. With her grandfather in the hospital and the business in trouble, they were on their own.

"We'll fix this," she said firmly.

Cameron gave her a weak smile. "I hope so. I really hope so."

But as she left the station, the weight of their problems pressed down on her. Fixing this wouldn't be easy.

Ariana stepped out of the police station, the afternoon sun glaring down on her. She pulled out her phone, hesitated, then dialed her younger sister, Kiara. The call rang twice before Kiara's cheerful voice answered.

"Hey, Ari! Miss me already?" They had said their goodbyes earlier that morning before Kiara returned to school _she lived in the school's dormitory and occasionally visited Ariana's apartment.

Ariana forced a light tone. "Always. Just checking in. How's classes?"

"Ugh, stressful. Midterms next week," Kiara groaned. "But my dance rehearsal went great today. The instructor said I might get a solo!" Her voice tinged with pride.

Ariana smiled faintly. "That's amazing, Ki. You deserve it."

A pause. Then Kiara's voice turned suspicious. "Wait... why do you sound off? Is everything okay?"

Ariana's grip tightened on the phone. "Yeah, just tired. Been working on a big piece."

Kiara wasn't fooled. "Ari, tell me the truth."

Ariana exhaled sharply. She couldn't lie, not when things were this bad. "Dad's in trouble. He was arrested."

Silence. Then a sharp intake of breath. "What? For what?"

Ariana lowered her voice. "Fraud... tax evasion... some other stuff. It's bad, Kiara. Really bad."

Kiara's voice shook. "But-that's impossible! Dad would never-"

"I know," Ariana cut in. "But right now, we can't do anything. Grandpa's still in the hospital, and the business is sinking. I just... didn't want you to hear it from someone else."

Kiara was quiet for a long moment. "I'm coming home."

"No," Ariana said firmly. "You have midterms and that solo. We can't afford to lose your scholarship."

"But-"

"Kiara, listen. I'll handle this. Just focus on school, okay? Do it for Dad."

Kiara sniffed. "This isn't fair."

Ariana closed her eyes. "I know."

She hung up, her chest heavy. The little money she made from selling paintings wouldn't even cover a good lawyer. And the charges-tax evasion, money laundering, even drug trafficking? None of it made sense. Her father was strict, even stubborn, but he wasn't a criminal.

Ariana boarded a bus, her expression blank as she stared out the window, barely noticing the city passing by. The ride felt longer than usual, every stop stretching the tension coiled in her chest. When she finally reached her apartment-a simple, modest two-bedroom space-she fumbled with her keys before unlocking the door.

She dropped her bag by the couch, her paint-stained apron still tied around her waist. Without thinking, she grabbed a glass from the kitchen cabinet and filled it with water, drinking deeply to steady herself. Her hands trembled slightly as she set the glass down.

She pulled out her phone again, scrolling through her contacts until she found the name: Martin Cole. Her father's longtime friend and their family lawyer-a middle-aged man who wasn't the most elite in the field but had enough experience. She hit the call button and pressed the phone to her ear, pacing the small living room.

After two rings, a gruff voice answered. "Martin Cole."

"Martin, it's Ariana," she said, her voice tighter than she intended. "I need your help. Dad's been arrested."

There was a brief pause on the other end before Martin let out a heavy sigh. "I heard. I'm sorry. The charges are serious, Ariana. Fraud, tax evasion-they're even throwing around drug trafficking, though I doubt there's any real evidence for that."

Her stomach twisted. "Drug trafficking? That's ridiculous. You know Dad would never-" You've known him for years-"

"I know he's not guilty," Martin interrupted. "But the prosecution is aggressive. They've been building the case for a while now, apparently. Someone tipped them off."

Ariana stopped pacing, her free hand clenching into a fist. "Who would do that?"

"It could be a disgruntled employee, maybe a competitor," Martin said. "Right now, we need to focus on proving his innocence. I'll request a bail hearing, but with these charges, it won't be easy."

She swallowed hard. "What do we do in the meantime?"

"Gather everything you can-financial records, contracts, anything that faults the allegation. And don't talk to the press or anyone else about this. One wrong word could make things worse."

Ariana nodded, even though he couldn't see her. "I'll go through his files at the office tonight."

"Be careful," Martin warned. "If this is a setup, that person wouldn't want the truth getting out."

The line went quiet for a moment before Ariana whispered, "Do you think he'll get out?"

Martin hesitated. "I'll do everything I can. But you need to prepare for the worst, Ariana. These kinds of cases... they don't end quickly."

She closed her eyes, fighting the lump in her throat. "Just get him out, Martin. Please."

"I'll call you as soon as I have updates," he said before hanging up.

Ariana lowered the phone, her legs suddenly weak. She sank onto the couch, staring blankly at the half-finished painting leaning against the wall-a peaceful landscape that now felt worlds away from her reality.

She had no choice. She had to find out who was behind this. Before it was too late.