The Last Sovereign

Chapter 1

"Joshua Smith," the officer said, his tone clipped. "You're under arrest."

Joshua barely blinked. "On what grounds?" His voice remained steady, betraying no hint of alarm. He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest, his eyes sharp.

The other officer, shorter but no less imposing, held up a sheet of paper.

"We’ve received an anonymous tip that you're involved in multiple crimes—bribery, embezzlement, theft, robbery, and..." He paused, his voice lowering. "Even murder."

The accusations hung in the air, as thick and heavy as storm clouds. Joshua raised an eyebrow, incredulity washing over him.

"Murder? Bribery? Theft?" His lips curled into a faint smile, amused by the absurdity of it all. "I think you have the wrong person."

The officers didn’t flinch. They moved toward him, ready to place handcuffs around his wrists. But before they could lay a hand on him, a voice, icy and composed, sliced through the room.

"No, officers. You have the right person."

Joshua froze at the sound. He knew that voice all too well.

Turning his head, he saw his wife, Molly Anderson, standing in the doorway.

Her posture was elegant, her expression detached, and her eyes—once warm and full of admiration for him—were now cold and distant. She held a slim folder in her hands.

"Molly?" Joshua said, his voice betraying a hint of disbelief. "What is this all about?"

Molly stepped further into the room, her gaze never leaving his. With deliberate calm, she placed the folder on his desk and opened it, revealing the papers inside.

It was a divorce agreement.

"I filed the report," she said, her voice devoid of emotion. "It was me."

Joshua, the man who had taken the Anderson family business and transformed it into an empire, stared at the woman who had stood by his side, now betraying him with such casual coldness.

Molly Anderson, the daughter of his former mentor and teacher, the patriarch of the Anderson family, now held the keys to his downfall.

"You're joking," Joshua said, though there was no humor in his voice. His mind raced, searching for an explanation. "After everything I’ve done for this family?"

Molly’s lips barely twitched. "You’ve done a lot, yes," she acknowledged, glancing briefly at the documents scattered across his desk.

"You took over the family after my father died. You stabilized it when no one else could. But don’t think for a second that makes you indispensable."

The officers stood silently, watching the scene unfold. They were clearly caught in something far more complex than a mere arrest. Molly continued.

"The Anderson family has become one of the wealthiest and most powerful in the South. We’ve thrived," she said, her tone almost clinical.

"But now, we don’t need you anymore. There’s an opportunity for us to secure an alliance with a powerful northern family, and you…" She gave a small shrug. "You’re in the way."

Joshua’s mind reeled. He had heard rumors about the Andersons aligning with northern interests—old money, deep political connections in the capital—but he had never imagined they would discard him so easily.

He glanced at the divorce papers, already prepared, the signature line glaring back at him.

All of this was planned, calculated, executed with ruthless precision. The Andersons were going to claim his achievements as their own, erase his presence from their narrative, and move forward without him.

And Molly, the woman he had once trusted with everything, was leading the charge.

Joshua’s gaze sharpened. His voice was low, filled with a dangerous edge. "You think you can handle the sharks waiting to tear this company apart? Do you really believe you’re capable?"

Molly tilted her head slightly, unbothered by his words. "I don’t need to. We have other… options."

Her indifference was like a knife twisting in his chest. But Joshua wasn’t about to go down quietly. With a slow, deliberate motion, he reached for the pen on his desk and, without breaking eye contact with Molly, signed the divorce papers.

"There," he said, tossing the pen aside. "Now you have what you want."

The officers stepped forward, preparing to cuff him, but Joshua stood up, his expression unreadable, his posture still commanding despite the situation.

As they grabbed his wrists, he leaned in slightly toward Molly, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

"Just remember," he whispered, "the one who built this empire can just as easily destroy it."