Chapter 4 - Shadows in the Penthouse
The federal detention center smelled of bleach, damp concrete, and unwashed despair.
Three weeks had passed since the morning my empire collapsed. Three weeks in a six-by-eight concrete cell with a steel toilet and a thin mattress that smelled of a hundred men before me. My designer suits had been replaced by a coarse orange jumpsuit; my Rolex had been confiscated as evidence.
During my daily one-hour recreation period in the sterile courtyard, surrounded by high chain-link fences and razor wire, a guard approached my bench.
—Vale. Visitor in Booth Three. Non-contact.
I stood up, my legs feeling heavy and weak, and shuffled toward the visitation booths.
I sat down on the bolted metal stool and picked up the heavy plastic telephone receiver. On the other side of the thick Plexiglas partition sat a woman in a dark trench coat, her blond hair tied back in a neat ponytail, her face partly obscured by oversized designer sunglasses.
Vanessa.
I let out a bitter, self-loathing laugh, pressing the phone to my ear.
—So you finally decided to show up, — I muttered, my voice raspy from disuse. — Did you bring money? Did you hire a real lawyer, or did you run off with whatever cash you had left in your purse?
Vanessa slowly slid her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose. Her eyes—once cold and calculating—were now hollow, rimmed with dark circles of sheer panic.
—Hire a lawyer? —she hissed through the intercom speaker, her voice trembling with rage. — Michael, you idiot! The feds seized my apartment, my car, my bank accounts, and even my designer bags! They arrested my brother because he was holding some of your offshore shell company paperwork! I’m facing five years for conspiracy!
—Your brother? What does he have to do with— —I started, before cutting myself off.
—Everything! —she screamed, slamming her palm against the glass partition. — You told me you were a billionaire! You told me your wife was just a weak little ornament you could throw away whenever you wanted! But you didn't tell me you were picking a fight with Alexander Hayes!
Hearing that name made my stomach turn inside out.
—Alexander... —I snarled. — This is all his fault. He manipulated Emily. He stole my company, he stole my son, he stole my life!
Vanessa stared at me as if I had completely lost my mind.
—You fool, — she whispered, her voice dropping to a venomous hiss. — Do you really still not understand? Alexander didn't steal anything from you. You handed it to him on a silver platter because you were too arrogant to realize that the empire you thought you owned was built on sand.
Before I could answer, Vanessa slammed the phone back onto its cradle, stood up, and stormed out of the visitation room without looking back.
I sat alone in the booth, the heavy plastic receiver still pressed against my ear, listening to the hollow dial tone echoing through the speaker.
Click.
The line went dead.
May you like
And for the first time in my life, sitting in the cold silence of a prison cell, I realized that Vanessa was right.
I hadn't been betrayed by enemies. I had destroyed myself.
