Chapter 14 - The Cellblock Visitor
Marcus Porter sat behind the scratched plexiglass partition in the maximum-security wing of the Jefferson County Detention Facility.
His orange jumpsuit was two sizes too large, hanging loosely over shoulders that had lost twenty pounds of gym-sculpted muscle. His hair was cropped close—a jailhouse haircut that exposed the sharp contours of his skull.
When the heavy steel door clicked open on the visitor's side, Marcus leaned forward eagerly, his eyes lighting up with frantic hope.
"Nina?" he breathed against the perforated metal speaker.
It wasn't Nina.
Bianca Hale sat down on the visitor’s stool. She wore a cheap gray cardigan, no makeup, and her hands were clasped tightly in her lap. She looked like a ghost of the woman who had worn emeralds to my anniversary dinner.
Marcus’s face darkened instantly. "What are you doing here?" he spat into the phone receiver. "Where is my mother? Why hasn't Kline filed the emergency habeas corpus petition?"
"Your mother has no money left, Marcus," Bianca said. Her voice was flat, empty, devoid of the breathy charm she had used to twist him around her finger. "Kline quit your defense team yesterday because your trust checks bounced."
Marcus gripped the receiver until his knuckles turned chalk-white. "She has the Aspen property! She has the jewelry!"
"Seized," Bianca said. "All of it. The feds took the Aspen property on Tuesday under civil asset forfeiture. They found your second safe behind the wine cellar."
Marcus slammed his open palm against the plexiglass. "You told them! You gave them the code!"
"I took a plea deal, Marcus," Bianca said, a small, hollow tear tracing the side of her nose. "Five years probation. Community service. Full restitution. In exchange, I gave them your encrypted ledgers and testified before the grand jury this morning."
"You traitorous whore!" Marcus screamed, his face contorting into an ugly, venomous mask. "I gave you everything! I took you to Europe! I bought you that condo!"
"You used me," Bianca whispered, leaning closer to the glass. "You used my LLC to steal from your own wife because you were too arrogant to admit your business was a fraud. You never loved me, Marcus. I was just an accomplice who made you feel powerful."
"Get out!" Marcus shrieked, banging on the partition until two guards stepped behind him, their batons drawn. "Get out of here!"
Bianca picked up her purse and stood. She looked at him through the glass one last time—not with anger, but with pity.
"Jonah is building a vocational school in David Taylor’s name," she said softly through the receiver. "And Chloe calls Nina her aunt. They're happy, Marcus. While you rot in here, they're building a real life."
She set the receiver down on the chrome hook and walked away.
May you like
Marcus screamed, thrashing against the guards as they wrestled him to the concrete floor, his face pressed against the cold drain while the door shut behind her.
***
