Chapter 7 - Facing Vanessa in Private
A week later, at the federal holding facility in downtown Manhattan, I sat in a cold, sterile visitation booth separated by a thick sheet of reinforced safety glass.
The heavy steel door clicked open, and two guards escorted Vanessa into the room.
She looked a shadow of her former self. Her designer gown was gone, replaced by a coarse orange jumpsuit. Her hair hung limp and unwashed around her shoulders, and the heavy foundation she always wore could no longer hide the dark, bruised circles under her eyes.
She sat down heavily on the metal stool, picking up the heavy plastic telephone receiver with shaking hands. I picked up mine on the other side of the glass.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. We just stared at each other through the smudged glass.
"Why are you here, Ethan?" her voice crackled through the speaker, small and defeated. "Come to gloat?"
"No," I replied calmly. "I came to ask you a question. Did you ever feel anything real? In all those months... was it all just an act?"
Vanessa let out a hollow, bitter laugh that sounded like dry leaves scraping across pavement.
"Do you know what it's like to grow up with nothing, Ethan?" she whispered, her eyes finally meeting mine. "You had your tech genius, your bootstraps story, your billions. I had beauty. I had charm. I learned early on that the world only gives power to people who take it. When I met you... yes, you were sweet. You were vulnerable in a way rich men never are. But money talks louder than feelings."
"And fourteen million dollars wasn't enough?" I asked, my voice devoid of anger, filled only with cold clarity.
"It's never enough," she shook her head slowly. "Power requires fuel. And you had plenty of it."
"Well, your fuel ran out," I said quietly. "Your trial is scheduled for next month. My lawyers are ensuring you get the maximum sentence under federal guidelines. And every single cent you stole is being returned to its rightful place."
Vanessa pressed her palm against the glass, her fingers trembling. "Ethan... please. We were going to be married. Have some mercy. Tell your lawyers to ease up—"
"My mother told me something on her deathbed," I interrupted, my eyes locking onto hers with unyielding resolve. 'A man's greatest treasure is the person who stays when there's nothing left to take.' You left the moment things got complicated, Vanessa. And now, there is nothing left for you here."
May you like
I hung up the telephone receiver, placed it gently back on its cradle, and stood up.
Vanessa slammed her fists against the glass, screaming something I couldn't hear through the soundproofing, but I didn't look back. I turned around and walked out of the holding facility into the crisp Manhattan air, leaving the past firmly behind me.
