Chapter 7 - The Final Ledger
The visitor’s room at the federal detention center was a stark contrast to the luxurious penthouses Adrian used to inhabit. The walls were cinderblock grey, smelling of bleach and stale sweat.
When the guard led him in, I almost didn't recognize him. The tailored suits were gone, replaced by an ill-fitting orange jumpsuit. His perfectly coiffed hair was greasy and unkempt. The arrogance that used to radiate from him had been hollowed out, leaving behind a frantic, desperate energy.
He sat down across from me, separated by a thick pane of reinforced glass. He picked up the heavy black telephone receiver. I picked up mine.
"You ruined me," he hissed, his voice trembling with rage. "You took everything."
"I took nothing that belonged to you, Adrian," I said evenly, staring at the dark circles under his eyes. "You stole it. I just returned it to its rightful owners."
"I made you!" he shouted, banging his fist against the glass. A guard stepped forward, but I raised a hand, signaling I was fine. "You were nothing before you met me. You are nothing without me!"
"I was a brilliant accountant before I met you," I corrected him, my voice steady and devoid of emotion. "You forced me into the shadows because you knew, deep down, I was smarter than you. You were right to be afraid of me, Adrian."
He stared at me, his chest heaving, desperately searching for the terrified girl he used to beat into submission. But she wasn't there.
"They're offering me twenty years," he whispered, his voice finally breaking. Tears welled in his eyes. The same fake tears he used to cry after he hit me. "Please. Tell them you forged the audio. Tell them you exaggerated. If you love me, if you ever loved me, you'll help me."
I looked at him, feeling absolutely nothing. No anger. No pity. Just a profound, quiet emptiness that felt remarkably like freedom.
"The first time you hit me, I believed those tears," I said softly into the receiver. "I spent eight years paying for that mistake. The ledger is closed, Adrian. Your account is bankrupt."
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I didn't wait for his response. I hung up the phone, stood up, and walked out of the concrete room. I didn't look back, not even when I heard him screaming my name through the heavy steel doors.
A month later, Adrian Vale was sentenced to twenty-five years in federal prison with no possibility of early parole.
