Chapter 9 - The Plea Bargain
The glass partition in the Cook County jail visiting room was thick and scratched, a grim barrier between the world of freedom and the world of consequence. I sat on the metal stool, my tailored suit a stark contrast to the drab gray surroundings. On the other side of the glass sat Julian Vance.
He was wearing a standard-issue orange jumpsuit. His face was gaunt, his head shaved completely bald due to a recent outbreak of lice in his cellblock. He looked fifty years older than the man who had screamed at me in my kitchen three short months ago.
He picked up the heavy plastic telephone receiver, his eyes fixed on mine with a mixture of profound defeat and lingering resentment. I picked up my own receiver, placing it to my ear.
“You came,” he said, his voice flat, stripped of all its former resonance.
“I came because Sophia said you requested a final meeting before your sentencing hearing tomorrow,” I replied smoothly. “What do you want, Julian?”
Julian let out a dry, hacking laugh. “I wanted to see you one last time. I wanted to see the billionaire who used to bake my cookies. You look good, Madeline. Power suits suit you better than an apron.”
“Power was always there, Julian. I just didn't feel the need to weaponize it against the people I loved,” I said calmly. “Unlike you.”
Julian slumped forward, pressing his forehead against the scratched glass. “The District Attorney offered a plea deal this morning. If I plead guilty to grand larceny and corporate fraud, they will cap my sentence at four years. If I go to trial, they’re going for the full fifteen. Arthur Thorne’s testimony and the files you provided are ironclad. My lawyer says a trial would be suicide.”
“Then you should take the deal,” I advised him, my voice devoid of emotion.
“If I take it, I go to a medium-security facility downstate on Monday,” he whispered, a tear escaping his eye and rolling down his cheek. “My mother… she’s living in a state-subsidized senior apartment now. She has to use public transit. She called me crying yesterday because she had to clean her own toilet. She’s completely broken, Maddy. We both are.”
“You broke yourselves, Julian,” I reminded him gently but firmly. “You broke yourselves the moment you decided that other human beings were disposable. You thought your corporate title gave you the right to treat people like garbage. You thought my silence was weakness.”
Julian looked up, his eyes searching my face for any sign of the girl he used to know. “Did you ever love me, Madeline? Or was I just a social experiment to you?”
A soft smile touched my lips. “I loved you completely, Julian. I loved you so much that I was willing to let go of my corporate identity, my wealth, and my status just to build a simple, quiet life with you. I wanted to bake bread, smell like vanilla, and come home to a man who loved me for my heart. But you didn't want a heart. You wanted a trophy, and when you realized the trophy didn't come with a blank check, you tried to break it.”
Julian’s shoulders shook as he began to weep silently, the reality of his monumental loss finally settling deep into his soul. He had had everything—a brilliant, wealthy, beautiful wife who adored him—and he had thrown it all away for a fraction of the fortune she already owned.
May you like
“Take the plea deal, Julian,” I said, standing up and hanging the phone back on its cradle. “Serve your time. And when you get out, try to be a human being instead of a regional director.”
I turned and walked away from the partition, the heavy steel doors of the prison clicking open to return me to the bright, beautiful world outside. Behind me, Julian Vance remained in the shadows, entirely alone with the ghost of his own arrogance.
