Chapter 7 - Desperation and Betrayal
The federal detention center in Lower Manhattan smelled of industrial bleach, floor wax, and human defeat.
Elena sat on one side of the plexiglass partition, wearing a bright orange institutional jumpsuit. Her long, glossy chestnut hair had been tied back with a cheap rubber band; her skin was dull, stripped of the thousand-dollar serums she religiously applied; her hands were rough, devoid of her diamond rings.
Across from her sat David Vance.
He had been released from the psychiatric ward twenty-four hours earlier after the doctors concluded—precisely as I had predicted—that his "overdose" was a superficial gesture designed for legal sympathy. He wore an ill-fitting suit he had purchased off the rack at a department store with cash borrowed from his sister.
"You have to sign the release," David hissed through the telephone receiver, his face pressed against the glass. "Elena, listen to me! If you sign the affidavit stating that the Cayman accounts were created without my knowledge, my lawyer can file for an innocent spouse exception on the wire fraud charges!"
Elena stared at him. Then, slowly, she began to laugh.
It wasn't a pleasant sound. It was the harsh, cackling laugh of a hyena trapped in a corner.
"Are you completely delusional, David?" she spat through the receiver. "You want me to take the fall for your federal charges?"
"You took the money!" David shouted, slamming his fist against the counter. A guard standing by the door stepped forward, his hand resting on his baton. David shrank back, lowering his voice to a desperate, frantic hiss. "You were the one who told me to move the Montgomery trust funds! You said we could double the returns in Zurich! You used me!"
"Of course I used you, you pathetic little boy," Elena whispered, her eyes flashing with pure, unadulterated venom. "Did you actually think I loved you? Did you honestly believe that after fifteen years of absolute silence, I suddenly woke up and realized you were the love of my life?"
David looked as though she had stabbed him in the throat with an ice pick. "Elena... what are you saying? We had plans. We were going to build our own life..."
"You were a mark, David," she sneered, leaning closer to the glass. "I had three hundred thousand dollars in credit card debt and two failed seed rounds behind me. My partners were about to sue me for fraud. Then I saw you at the alumni gala last year, boasting about your wife’s family trust, bragging about how much capital you controlled. You were so desperate to feel like a big man, so insecure about being Edward Montgomery’s lapdog, that all I had to do was touch your knee under the table and tell you how brilliant you were."
"No..." David whimpered, shaking his head. "No, you loved me. You said Claire was nothing compared to me."
"Claire was the only valuable thing in your entire miserable life," Elena said, her voice dripping with contempt. "She gave you stature. She gave you credibility. And you threw her away because you couldn't stand the fact that she was smarter, richer, and more respected than you’ll ever be. And now? I took a plea deal twenty minutes ago, David."
David froze. The blood drained from his face for the hundredth time that week. "What... what did you do?"
"My lawyer met with the Assistant United States Attorney this morning," Elena smiled, showing her teeth. "I turned over every WhatsApp message, every encrypted voice memo, and every single spreadsheet you sent me from your work computer. I signed a full proffer agreement. In exchange for testifying against you at your wire fraud trial, I’m getting three years at a minimum-security camp in Danbury."
"You... you gave them my records?" David whispered, his hand shaking so violently he almost dropped the receiver.
"I gave them everything, David," she purred. "They know about the forged signatures. They know about the kickbacks from the commercial real estate deals in Jersey. They have you dead to rights. You’re going to a real prison. For ten years minimum."
She stood up from her chair, smoothing down the front of her orange jumpsuit.
"Have fun in Otisville, David," Elena said, tapping the glass with her manicured fingernail. "I hear the winters are lovely up there."
May you like
She turned and walked through the heavy steel door, leaving David screaming into the dead telephone receiver, beating his fists against the plexiglass until the guards tackled him to the concrete floor and dragged him away in chains.
***
