Chapter 7 - The Plea Bargain
The holding facility beneath the Manhattan Criminal Court smelled of stale coffee, industrial floor cleaner, and damp wool.
I walked down the narrow concrete corridor accompanied by David Sterling and two court officers. Through the reinforced glass window of Consultation Room B, I saw Adrian.
The contrast between the man sitting at that metal table and the man who had stood under the St. Regis chandeliers eighteen hours ago was absolute.
His white tuxedo jacket had been confiscated as evidence. He wore a gray, oversized county holding jumpsuit. His hair was greasy and uncombed, and his hands were bound at the wrists by heavy steel handcuffs that clinked against the stainless-steel table every time he moved.
Beside him sat a tired-looking public defender whose briefcase was held together with duct tape.
David opened the door, and we stepped into the small room.
The moment Adrian saw me, he surged out of his chair, his chains rattling furiously. "Mara! Mara, tell them! Tell them it’s a civil matter! Tell them it was just a misunderstanding about the necklace!"
"Sit down, Mr. Cole," the public defender snapped, yanking Adrian back into his chair by his jumpsuit collar. "You’re making this worse."
I sat down across from him, setting my arms flat on the cold metal surface.
"You look tired, Adrian," I said quietly.
"Mara, please," Adrian whimpered, tears instantly welling in his red-rimmed eyes. "My mother is outside in the hallway crying! The police searched her house! They took her computer! She’s sixty-eight years old, Mara! How could you do that to her?!"
"Your mother helped you hide my mother’s necklace in her safety deposit box for three weeks before you sold it, Adrian," I replied, my voice steady and unyielding. "She was an active accomplice to grand larceny. She isn't a victim here. She’s an accessory."
Adrian buried his face in his cuffed hands, letting out a muffled, desperate sob. "I’ll give it back! I’ll give everything back! I’ll sign over my car, my stock options, everything! Just drop the criminal charges! I can't go to prison, Mara! You know I can't survive in prison!"
"You don't have stock options, Adrian," David Sterling interjected, pulling out a legal folder. "Your former employer, Apex Logistics, terminated your contract at seven AM this morning due to moral turpitude clauses. They are also initiating an internal audit regarding your corporate expense reports over the last twenty-four months."
Adrian lifted his head, terror blinding his eyes. "They fired me?"
"You're radioactive, Mr. Cole," David said plainly. "No corporate entity will touch you. Your credit score is zero. Your assets are frozen. Your marriage is facing an annulment petition filed by Dr. Voss's attorneys an hour ago."
"Celeste..." Adrian gasped. "That loyalty-less snake..."
"You threw her under the bus to the police last night, Adrian," I reminded him. "You told the arresting officers that she was the one who forced you to sell the necklace to fund her wedding reception."
Adrian swallowed hard, his jaw trembling. He looked at me, searching my face for any lingering trace of the quiet, forgiving woman he had married eight years ago—the woman who used to cook him dinner after twelve-hour workdays, who cheered for his small promotions, who listened silently while he bragged about his future.
He found nothing. Only an ocean of cold, calm ice.
"What do you want, Mara?" he whispered, his spirit finally breaking. "What do you want from me?"
"I want a full, written, notarized confession," I said, sliding a three-page document across the metal table toward him.
"A confession to what?" his public defender asked, reaching for the paper.
"To deliberate financial fraud during our divorce proceedings," I stated. "To the theft and illegal sale of my mother’s sapphire necklace. To corporate expense fraud at your former employer. And to making false statements to federal bank auditors regarding the joint accounts opened with Dr. Voss."
Adrian stared at the pages. "If I sign this... I’m pleading guilty to three felonies."
"If you sign this," David Sterling clarified, "Mrs. Lin-Cole will recommend that the District Attorney cap your prison sentence at five years instead of the maximum twenty-five. You will serve your time in a minimum-security state facility, and your mother will be offered a deferred prosecution agreement with zero jail time."
Adrian’s breath came in ragged, shallow hitches. He looked down at the gold pen David held out to him.
"And if I don't sign?" Adrian asked, his voice barely audible.
"If you don't sign," I said, leaning forward until my eyes locked onto his, "I will hire every senior litigator in the tri-state area to ensure you receive the absolute maximum sentence allowed by law. I will personally buy the mortgage on your mother’s house and foreclose on it by the end of the month. And I will make sure every day you spend in state prison is a very, very long time."
The room was deathly quiet.
The public defender looked at the document, then looked at Adrian. "Sign it, Adrian. It’s the best deal you’re ever going to get."
With shaking, handcuffed fingers, Adrian grabbed the pen.
Every stroke of his signature was accompanied by the harsh, metallic clink of his chains against the table. He signed page one. Page two. Page three.
When he finished, he dropped the pen onto the metal table, letting his head fall forward until his forehead pressed against the cold steel.
I stood up, taking the signed confession from David's hands.
"Goodbye, Adrian," I said softly, turning toward the heavy reinforced door.
"Mara!" he called out, his voice cracked and hollow as the guard unlocked the door.
I stopped, but didn't turn around. "What?"
"Did you ever love me?" he asked, a pathetic, desperate question hanging in the cold basement air. "Or was I just a project to you?"
I turned my head slightly, looking at him over my shoulder.
May you like
"I loved you with everything I had, Adrian," I said truthfully. "Until I realized that loving you required me to make myself small enough to fit inside your ego."
I stepped out into the hallway, leaving the sound of his chains rattling in the dark behind me.
