Chapter 5 - THE CELLBLOCK VISITATIONThree days after the gala, I walked down the dim, sterile hallway of the state correctional facility.
The air smelled of industrial disinfectant and cold steel. The heavy iron doors echoed with loud, metallic thuds as the guards cleared my path.
I was dressed in a tailored navy-blue pantsuit, holding a slim leather briefcase. Beside me walked two private security officers.
The guard opened the door to the glass-partitioned visitation room.
Inside sat Christopher.
He looked unrecognizable. The immaculate, powerful CEO who had stood in a Tom Ford tuxedo three nights ago was gone. In his place sat a hollow, disheveled man in an oversized orange jumpsuit. His hair was messy, his eyes bloodshot and dark with severe exhaustion, his hands trembling slightly as they rested on the metal table.
He looked up as I stepped into the room.
When his eyes met mine, a flash of desperation, rage, and shame washed across his face.
I sat down calmly in the chair opposite him, picking up the glass-intercom telephone receiver.
Christopher slowly picked up his receiver.
“Eleanor...” his voice came through the speaker, raspy and weak. “You came.”
“I didn't come to comfort you, Christopher,” I said, my tone as cold and smooth as polished marble. “I came to deliver these.”
I opened my briefcase, pulled out a thick stack of legal papers, and pressed them against the glass window.
“These are the final divorce papers,” I said. “Along with an immediate petition for the total forfeiture of all marital assets under the state’s marital infidelity and criminal misconduct statutes.”
Christopher stared at the documents, his breath hitching in his chest. “Eleanor... please. You can’t do this to me. I made a mistake! Brenda... Brenda seduced me! She manipulated me! She was the one who came up with the idea to drug you!”
“Save it for the jury, Christopher,” I replied coldly. “I’ve read the text messages. I’ve seen the video recordings. You were a very willing accomplice in your own wife’s destruction.”
“I was desperate!” Christopher shouted, pressing his face close to the glass, his eyes wide with panic. “The investments failed! I was going to lose everything! The creditors were threatening to go after the estate! I did it to save the family name!”
“You did it to save yourself,” I corrected him. “You were willing to destroy my life, my health, and your own son’s future just to maintain your illusion of wealth.”
Mentioning Luke made Christopher’s face twist in bitter anger. “Luke... that ungrateful little traitor! I raised him! I paid for his tuition at MIT! And he turned on his own father for you!”
“Luke didn't turn on his father,” I said, leaning closer to the glass, my voice lowering to a deadly pitch. “You turned on your family. Luke simply protected the parent who actually loved him. You thought he was just a quiet boy playing with computers in his room. You never realized he was paying attention to every dirty secret you hid in the dark.”
Christopher slumped back into his metal chair, burying his face in his trembling, cuffed hands. A broken, pathetic sob escaped his chest.
“What about Brenda?” Christopher rasped out after a long silence. “What’s happening to her?”
I offered him a thin, chilling smile.
“Brenda is in the women’s detention wing three floors down,” I said smoothly. “Her application for public defense was granted today. She tried to strike a plea bargain with the prosecutor by offering to testify against you in exchange for a reduced sentence.”
Christopher snapped his head up, his eyes bulging with betrayal. “She... she offered to testify against me?”
“Of course she did,” I said with a quiet laugh. “Did you really think a woman who betrayed her best friend for money would stay loyal to a bankrupt criminal in an orange jumpsuit?”
Christopher stared at me, completely speechless, as the absolute destruction of his grand illusion sank deep into his soul.
“Oh, and one more thing, Christopher,” I added, gathering my papers and placing them back in my briefcase. “I brought you a gift.”
I pulled a small object out of my pocket and set it on the ledge against the glass window.
It was the black chess queen Luke had left on my nightstand the night of the gala.
“Luke wanted me to give this back to you,” I said softly. “He said to tell you... checkmate.”
I hung up the phone receiver, stood up, and walked out of the visitation room without looking back once. Behind me, the muffled sound of Christopher pounding his fists against the reinforced glass echoed through the empty hallway, but I didn't stop.
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He was part of my past now.
And my future was waiting.
