Chapter 9 - The Final Audit
Three months later, the private visiting room at the Federal Detention Center was cold and smelled of floor wax.
I sat on one side of the reinforced acrylic glass, dressed in a simple charcoal business suit.
Across from me sat Adrian Vale.
The transformation was shocking to behold.
The bespoke suits and gold watches had been replaced by a coarse orange prison jumpsuit with stenciled numbers.
His hair had been shaved close to his scalp, revealing the uneven shape of his skull.
His broken wrist had healed crookedly inside a cheap medical cast provided by the state.
He picked up the heavy plastic telephone receiver with shaking, pale fingers.
I lifted my receiver and placed it against my ear without saying a word.
“Why did you come here, Claire?” Adrian asked, his voice hollow, scraped raw from weeks of shouting in a cell.
“To laugh at me? To gloat before they ship me to the federal penitentiary?”
“I don't need to gloat, Adrian,” I replied evenly.
“The judge’s sentence handled that on Wednesday.”
Adrian flinched at the reminder.
The federal judge had shown zero mercy during the sentencing hearing.
Twenty-two years without the possibility of federal parole for wire fraud, identity theft, and grand larceny.
His mother, Vivian, had received eight years at a separate women’s correctional facility after turning state’s evidence.
“Lila testified against me,” Adrian muttered, his eyes darting toward the armed guard by the door.
“My own mother testified against me.”
“Everyone I trusted turned their backs on me the second the money disappeared.”
“You never trusted them, Adrian,” I told him, my tone completely flat.
“And they never loved you.”
“You surrounded yourself with parasites because you believed you could buy human loyalty with stolen cash.”
Adrian leaned his forehead against the scratched acrylic divider.
“I gave you a life,” he whispered, a pathetic attempt to resurrect his old gaslighting tactics.
“You were alone in that empty house when Arthur died. I took care of you.”
“You robbed my father’s grave while the dirt was still fresh,” I cut him off sharply.
“You drained forty million dollars from companies my grandfather built with his bare hands.”
“You slapped me across the face and dumped me on an unlit road hoping the cold would kill me.”
Adrian swallowed hard, his eyes dropping to the steel table between us.
“What happened to the Vale Tower?” he asked, his voice cracking with humiliation.
“It was demolished yesterday,” I answered calmly.
Adrian’s head snapped up, genuine horror filling his face.
“You demolished it?” he gasped.
“The tower was built on illegal foundation permits your mother forged six years ago,” I explained.
“The structural integrity was compromised, and the city condemned the entire lot.”
I leaned slightly closer to the glass partition, looking straight into his ruined, empty eyes.
“I broke ground this morning on the Arthur Vance Children’s Medical Pavilion on that exact corner.”
“There will never be another building in this city that carries the Vale family name.”
Adrian dropped the telephone receiver onto the counter, his hands clutching his face as he began to weep.
The guards stepped forward, signaling that the visiting time had expired.
I hung up my receiver, stood up from the metal chair, and walked toward the exit door without looking back once.
As the heavy steel security doors buzzed open, I stepped out into the bright morning sunshine.
The air was crisp and smelled of spring blossoms rather than freezing rain.
Waiting at the curb was the armored Rolls-Royce Phantom, its black paint gleaming under the sun.
Thomas stood by the open rear door, nodding with deep respect as I approached.
I stepped into the vehicle and sat down on the warm leather seat.
Beside me, Eleanor Whitmore turned her veiled face toward me, a quiet smile resting upon her lips.
“Is it done?” Eleanor asked softly.
“It is completely done,” I answered, leaning back against the headrest.
She reached out her gloved hand, finding my fingers with uncanny precision, and gave them a firm, maternal squeeze.
May you like
“Then let us go home, my granddaughter,” Eleanor murmured.
“We have an empire to run.”
