Chapter 6 - Daniel's Desperate Plea
The visiting area of the federal holding facility smelled of industrial bleach and stagnant air. The Plexiglas partition between the visitor booths was thick, scratched, and smeared with the fingerprints of a hundred desperate criminals who had sat in that exact chair before.
When Daniel was brought in by two guards, he looked like a ghost of the man who had stood in the marble foyer just two days prior. His designer suit was wrinkled and stained; his hair was unwashed and matted; his eyes were bloodshot and wide with panic.
He threw himself against the glass, pressing his palms flat against the acrylic barrier as if he could somehow reach through it.
“Claire!” he sobbed, his voice cracking pathetically. “Claire, thank God! I knew you wouldn't abandon me. We’re husband and wife! We took vows!”
I sat on the other side of the glass, perfectly poised, wearing a crisp charcoal blazer and dark sunglasses. I didn't move an inch. I didn't lean forward. I simply watched him shatter.
“You held my shoulders down, Daniel,” I said, my voice eerily calm through the intercom speaker. “While your mother sprayed industrial chemicals into my eyes, you made sure I couldn't move. You didn't care if I went blind. You cared about your white rug.”
“I was stressed!” he screamed, banging his fist against the glass, causing the guards behind him to step forward instantly with their hands on their batons. “Mom told me... she said you were trying to trap us! She said you were a gold-digger!”
“A gold-digger?” I let out a cold, humorless laugh. “Daniel, my father owns Hartwell Capital. My family’s net worth could buy your entire hotel chain ten times over and still have enough left over to purchase the block your mansion sits on. You were living off our money. Every luxury car, every designer suit, every board seat you ever held—it was all financed by my father’s charity.”
Daniel staggered backward, his knees buckling slightly as he hit the metal chair behind him. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.
“No... no, that’s impossible,” he whispered, shaking his head frantically in denial. “You drove a used sedan. You worked at a museum as an archivist. You wore off-the-rack dresses!”
“I wanted a normal life,” I replied smoothly. “I wanted to know if a man could love me for who I was, without my family name or my inheritance attached. And I got my answer. The moment things got difficult, you showed me exactly who you are: a coward, a parasite, and a criminal.”
He buried his face in his cuffed hands, his shoulders shaking with wretched, hopeless sobs. “What am I going to do, Claire? They’re going to take everything. I’m facing twenty years. Mom is talking about disowning me because I dragged her into this. Please... is there anything I can do to fix this?”
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“Yes,” I said, standing up and buttoning my jacket. “Sign the annulment papers my father’s lawyers sent to your defense team this morning. Plead guilty to all counts without a contest. And spend every single day of your prison sentence remembering what happens when you underestimate the person you tried to destroy.”
I turned around and walked toward the heavy steel exit doors, leaving him screaming my name into an empty room.
