Chapter 6 - The Visitor in the CageOne month later, the visitation room at the Metropolitan Detention Center in Manhattan was cold, smelling of floor cleaner, stale coffee, and damp concrete.
I sat calmly on the metal chair behind the thick glass partition, wearing a simple beige cashmere sweater, holding a warm cup of tea.
The heavy iron door clicked open, and Daniel was led inside by two armed guards.
He wore an oversized orange jumpsuit, his hands handcuffed to a chain around his waist. In less than thirty days, the polished, handsome CEO had completely disintegrated. His dark hair was messy, dark purple circles bruised the skin beneath his sunken eyes, and his posture was completely broken.
He sat down heavily on the stool opposite me, picking up the plastic telephone receiver with shaking, handcuffed hands.
I picked up my phone, holding it to my ear.
“Emily…” Daniel rasped, his voice cracking through the static. He stared at me through the glass, his eyes taking in my elegant, stylish asymmetrical hair, my healthy color, and my calm, serene expression. “You… you look beautiful.”
“Thank you, Daniel,” I replied quietly.
“My lawyers say the federal prosecutor isn't offering a plea deal,” Daniel stammered, tears welling in his bloodshot eyes. “They’re looking at twelve to fifteen years, Emily. Twelve to fifteen years in a federal prison! Please… you have to talk to Marcus! Tell him to drop the civil restitution claims! I have no money left—my personal bank accounts were seized, the house in the Hamptons was auctioned off—”
“The house in the Hamptons was bought with stolen trust funds, Daniel,” I pointed out smoothly. “It belonged to my father’s foundation.”
Daniel slammed his handcuffed fists against the ledge, the steel chains rattling loudly against the metal frame.
“I made a mistake!” he sobbed, his face turning red with desperate, pathetic rage. “Vanessa was a mistake! She manipulated me! She convinced me that you didn't care about the company, that you were just sitting at home spending my money!”
I let out a soft, genuine laugh that made Daniel freeze in his tracks.
“Your money, Daniel?” I asked softly. “You sat in my father’s office for twelve years living on a lie. You let Vanessa cut my hair in your restroom because you thought I was weak. You thought because I didn't shout or scream, I had no power.”
I leaned closer to the glass, looking straight into his broken, tear-filled eyes.
“I didn't destroy your life, Daniel,” I whispered cleanly. “You destroyed yourself the moment you believed your own lies.”
Daniel slumped back against his stool, burying his face in his handcuffed hands, weeping softly into the cold air of the visitation room.
I set the telephone receiver back onto its wall cradle, stood up, and adjusted my coat.
May you like
“Goodbye, Daniel,” I said softly.
Without waiting for his answer, I turned on my heel and walked out of the visitation room, leaving him sitting alone in his cage.
