Chapter 7 - The Shadows of the Past
While Lucia and Sofi built their new life in Manhattan, the wreckage of Genevieve Prescott’s world continued to collapse with cinematic precision.
In a sterile federal holding facility in Brooklyn, Genevieve sat across a steel table from her court-appointed defense attorney, her designer clothes replaced by a coarse orange jumpsuit, her hair pulled back into a messy, unwashed ponytail.
"You don't understand, Arthur," Genevieve hissed, slamming her cuffed hands onto the metal table. "Alex Ward isn't just a CEO; he's vindictive. He’s systematically dismantling my family's holdings, calling in every corporate loan, and blocking every line of credit we had in the tristate area. He’s going to leave us destitute!"
Her attorney adjusted his glasses nervously, flipping through a thick sheaf of legal indictments. "Miss Prescott, your co-conspirator Marcus Vance has already signed a cooperation plea deal with the U.S. Attorney's office. He’s turning over every single email, encrypted chat log, and offshore wire transfer record. You’re facing fifteen counts of wire fraud, securities manipulation, and corporate identity theft. The best I can do is negotiate a plea for twelve years minimum security."
Genevieve went pale. Her manicured fingernails dug into her palms until the skin turned white.
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"It's because of that housekeeper," Genevieve whispered, venom dripping from every syllable. "It's because of that little peasant woman and her brat. He threw away a multi-billion-dollar corporate merger for a maid."
"He threw it away," the lawyer corrected coldly, "because you got caught by a three-year-old. Now sign the paperwork."
