Chapter 7 - Whispers from Cell Block C
Mark did not wait for the morning sun to fade before taking immediate action.
He drove straight toward the county correctional facility, his hands gripping the steering wheel until his palms burned.
Before leaving, he had ordered two armed security guards to patrol the perimeter of his property around the clock.
Mrs. Higgins was instructed to keep Lily strictly inside the reinforced sunroom until he returned.
The heavy concrete walls and barbed-wire fences of the prison loomed gray and oppressive against the blue sky.
Mark sat down at the cold metal visitor table, separated by thick bulletproof partition glass.
A heavy iron door buzzed open, and two guards escorted Victoria into the visitation booth.
She wore an orange jumpsuit, her once immaculate hair pulled back into a messy, dull ponytail.
Her face was thinner, but her dark eyes still burned with the same poisonous venom.
She picked up the plastic telephone receiver, a slow, mocking smile spreading across her lips.
Mark lifted his receiver, his voice dead and freezing cold.
"Who delivered Eleanor’s necklace to my house today, Victoria?"
Victoria let out a soft, raspy chuckle that crackled through the earpiece.
"Did you miss me already, Mark?" she purred, leaning forward against the glass.
"Answer the question," Mark demanded, leaning in until his breath fogged the cold pane.
"You think putting me behind bars means you won," she whispered, her smile twisting into pure malice.
"You always thought you were smarter than everyone else, didn't you?"
"You thought I married you just for your lavish modern house and your company shares."
"You have no idea what Eleanor was hiding from you before she took her last breath."
Mark felt a tremor of fury pulse through his veins, but he kept his composure rock solid.
"Eleanor was an angel who loved our daughter with everything she had," Mark stated firmly.
"Then ask yourself why her favorite locket was never in the family safe when she died," Victoria hissed.
"My brother kept it safe for me, Mark."
"And unlike me, Julian doesn't care about legal loopholes or trust funds."
"He only cares about burning down whatever you have left."
The name struck Mark like an icy hammer to the chest.
Julian Vance—Victoria’s older brother, a disbarred corporate attorney who had disappeared into South America five years ago.
"Julian is a fugitive with an active federal arrest warrant," Mark replied coldly.
"A fugitive who has nothing left to lose," Victoria sneered, her eyes gleaming with wicked triumph.
"He is already close enough to breathe on your precious daughter’s neck."
The visitation guard tapped his heavy baton against the glass, signaling that time was up.
May you like
Victoria stood up slowly, pressing her palm against the glass, mouthing four silent words before being pulled away.
*Watch your own house.*
