Chapter 18 - The Steel Partition and the Poisoned Alliance
The security gates of Bedford Hills Correctional Facility closed behind me with a loud, hydraulic groan that rattled the concrete walls.
The air inside smelled of stale industrial disinfectant, damp wool, and the sour tang of human despair.
I passed through three separate biometric scanners, surrendering my purse, my phone, and my coat to the armed guards at the checkpoint.
I was dressed in a pristine charcoal cashmere sweater, tailored wool slacks, and low Italian leather heels.
A female corrections officer led me down a long, echoing corridor lined with heavy steel doors and wire-reinforced glass.
The private attorney-client conference room had a scarred stainless-steel table bolted to the floor, flanked by two metal stools.
I sat down on one of the stools, smoothing my slacks with calm, deliberate fingers.
A minute later, the heavy iron door on the opposite side buzzed and swung open.
Emily Vance walked into the room, her wrists secured by a waist chain that clinked softly with every step she took.
Her emerald silk gown and diamond jewelry from the Plaza Hotel were gone forever.
She wore a rough, olive-drab prison jumpsuit that was two sizes too large, hanging loosely over her emaciated frame.
Her dark hair was pulled back into a ragged, greasy ponytail, revealing deep hollows beneath her cheekbones.
Her brown eyes were sunken and bloodshot, burning with a feverish, feral light that made her look like an unhinged stranger.
The guard pushed her down onto the metal stool opposite me, securing her chain to an anchor ring on the table.
“You have twenty minutes,” the guard barked before stepping outside and closing the door.
Emily rested her chained hands on the cold steel, staring at me with a twisted, mocking grin.
“Well, look at the Duchess of Bedford,” Emily sneered, her voice raspy from three years of breathing prison dust.
“Did you come to show off your diamonds, Livvy?”
“Or did you come to beg me to withdraw my affidavit?”
I looked at my sister, feeling neither anger nor pity.
She was a hollow ghost of the girl I had raised, consumed entirely by the malignant tumor of her own jealousy.
“I don’t beg, Emily,” I said quietly, my voice ringing steady against the cinderblock walls.
“You know that better than anyone.”
Emily let out a sharp, barking laugh that ended in a dry cough.
“You’re terrified, aren’t you?”
“Julian Mercer is going to tear you apart in front of Judge Vance-Miller next week.”
“Daniel is getting his visitation rights.”
“And every single month, you are going to have to drive Clara to Otisville, hand her over to the federal guards, and let Daniel hold her for four hours.”
“He is going to teach her who her real father is, Livvy.”
“He is going to tell her that her mother is a cold-blooded monster who locked her daddy in a cage.”
I leaned forward slightly, resting my forearms on the table.
“Is that what Daniel told you through Mercer, Emily?”
Emily’s eyes flashed with defensive arrogance.
“Daniel loves me.”
“What happened at the Plaza was an act.”
“He had to blame me to protect our offshore assets from the federal seizure!”
“He set up a trust for me in Switzerland seven years ago.”
“Once his parental rights are recognized and Mercer gets my appeal through, Daniel and I will have Clara and the trust funds.”
“You will be the one sitting alone in that big empty house, crying just like you used to cry on the bathroom floor!”
I reached into my pocket, pulling out a single folded sheet of paper that had been cleared by prison security.
I unfolded it and slid it across the stainless steel, directly under Emily’s chained thumbs.
It was a certified copy of the incorporation charter and beneficiary schedule of The Albatross Trust, obtained two hours ago through Arthur’s federal contacts.
“Look at page four, Emily,” I said softly.
Emily’s brow furrowed in suspicion.
She shifted her chained hands, using her index finger to pull the document closer.
Her eyes moved across the German and English text, scanning the legal declarations.
At the bottom of page four, the irrevocable primary beneficiary was clearly named:
Victoria Vance-Kaye, Miami, Florida.
Victoria was Daniel’s former college girlfriend, a woman he had secretly bought a luxury beachfront condo for eight years ago.
Directly beneath that was the secondary clause regarding the payment of legal liabilities.
It stated that in the event of any civil litigation involving the trust’s assets, all court costs and potential creditor judgments would be indemnified exclusively by the liquid assets of Emily Vance, former resident of White Plains, New York.
Emily’s lips parted, the color draining from her sallow skin until she looked like parchment.
“This... this is fake,” she stammered, her voice shaking violently.
“Daniel wouldn't do this.”
“He told Mercer that I was the sole beneficiary of The Albatross Trust!”
“Daniel used your signature on that affidavit to give his petition credibility, Emily,” I whispered, every word landing like a hammer blow.
“He needs you to commit perjury so he can convince the family court judge that he was an innocent victim.”
“And once the judge grants him access to Clara, he is using the Swiss account to settle out of court with the Department of Justice to reduce his sentence by ten years.”
“He is leaving you here to rot for the full twelve years of your term.”
“Worse than that, when Arthur files our federal cross-complaint for perjury next week, the state will add another seven years to your sentence for filing a fraudulent affidavit in a custodial proceeding.”
Emily stared at the paper, her breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps.
Her hands began to shake so violently that the waist chain rattled against the steel table with a sharp, frantic clatter.
Three years of surviving on the illusion of Daniel’s devotion collapsed around her in an instant.
The man she had poisoned her own sister for had not just betrayed her once at the Plaza.
He was using her carcass to pave his road to freedom, leaving her to face a decade of solitary confinement while he planned his escape to Florida.
“No...” Emily whimpered, tears of pure, agonizing rage leaking from her eyes.
“He swore to me...”
“He swore he was going to get me out...”
I leaned in closer, my hazel eyes locking onto hers with hypnotic, unyielding power.
“Daniel Sterling is an animal who devours anyone foolish enough to believe his smile, Emily.”
“He devoured me for five years.”
“He devoured your youth, your nursing career, and your freedom.”
“And right now, he is trying to devour my three-year-old child.”
Emily looked up from the document, her face contorted in a horrifying mask of grief, madness, and boiling hatred.
“What do you want, Livvy?” she choked out, her voice breaking into a sob.
I pointed my finger at the affidavit resting beside her chains.
“I want you to tell the truth, Emily.”
“Not for me.”
“Not for Clara.”
“Do it to make sure that Daniel Sterling never sees the light of day again.”
Emily stared at me for several long seconds, the heavy silence of the prison room pressing down upon us like lead.
Then, a terrible, bloodthirsty smile cracked across her pale lips.
May you like
“Give me the pen, big sister,” Emily whispered through her bared teeth.
“Let's bury that bastard together.”
