Chapter 5 - The Snake in the Cage
Two days later, I sat behind the reinforced glass window of the county jail's visitation room.
I sat in a comfortable chair, wearing a soft cream sweater, my hands wrapped around my coffee cup. Across the glass sat Daniel Carter.
He looked horrific. The tailored Italian suits were gone, replaced by a neon-orange jumpsuit. His manicured hair was greasy and unwashed, his stubble thick, and dark red circles hollowed out his eyes.
He picked up the heavy plastic phone receiver with trembling hands. I picked up mine.
"Claire," Daniel rasped, his voice desperate. "Claire, thank God you came. You have to get me out of here. My lawyer says the judge is refusing bail because of the corporate fraud charges!"
"I didn't come to get you out, Daniel," I said calmly. "I came to show you something."
I held a piece of paper against the glass.
It was a certified copy of a court order.
"What is that?" he asked, staring at the seal.
"It’s an emergency decree of annulment based on fraud and attempted homicide," I explained. "As of nine o'clock this morning, our marriage never existed in the eyes of the state. Every asset, every property, every investment account has been restored exclusively to my name."
Daniel’s face twisted in rage, his hands slamming against the counter beneath the glass. "You can't do that! We were married four years! I built that company with you!"
"You built nothing," I corrected him. "You stole. You forged my name on three different bank transfers. You funneled two hundred thousand dollars to your mother’s gambling debts in Macao. And you gave Victoria Hayes a hundred thousand dollars in company stock options."
Daniel froze at the mention of Victoria's name.
"She talked, Daniel," I smiled softly. "The moment the prosecutor offered her a deal, she gave them everything. The emails, the recorded phone calls, the offshore bank accounts in the Cayman Islands. She even told them that Patricia was the one who bought the silicone lubricant at a hardware store thirty miles away so it couldn't be traced to our neighborhood."
Daniel dropped his forehead against the glass, letting out a low, pathetic sob. "Claire... please. I was stupid. I was under so much pressure from my mother! She was pushing me! She threatened to expose my past debts if I didn't help her!"
"Always blaming someone else," I said softly. "Your mother blames you, you blame your mother, and both of you tried to blame me for being 'confused and pregnant.'"
"Claire, what about our son?!" he yelled, tears streaming down his face. "He’s my blood! You can't keep him from me!"
"His name is Leo," I said, leaning closer to the glass, looking him straight in his empty, desperate eyes. "And his birth certificate will list his father as 'Unknown.' You will never see his face. You will never hear his voice. You will spend the next twenty years in a federal penitentiary watching your youth rot away while he grows up knowing that his mother built an empire alone."
May you like
"Claire! No! Please!" Daniel screamed, banging his fists against the glass as I hung up the telephone receiver.
I stood up, smoothed down my sweater, and walked out of the visitation room, leaving his screams echoing behind the heavy steel doors.
