Chapter 12 - The Secrets of Rosewood Cottage
The visiting room at the federal correctional facility was freezing, humming with the persistent buzz of fluorescent lighting.
Victoria sat across the steel table, her wrists secured to an iron ring welded directly into the stainless steel surface.
Her roots had grown out dark gray, her fingernails were trimmed short, and the hollow shadows beneath her cheekbones made her look twenty years older.
Yet, despite her prison uniform, she tilted her chin upward with that same toxic, familiar arrogance.
"You look quite comfortable playing the billionaire heiress, Clara," Victoria sneered, leaning back against the cold metal chair.
"I didn't come here to discuss my wardrobe, Victoria," Clara replied calmly, folding her hands neatly in front of her.
"The prosecutor says you have the decryption keys to Arthur’s private trust," Clara stated flatly.
"Tell me what you want, or I walk out that heavy iron door and leave you to your twenty-year federal sentence."
Victoria leaned forward as far as her wrist chains permitted, her eyes narrowing into slits of pure venom.
"You think you won because Richard Sterling is wearing an orange jumpsuit like me?" Victoria whispered harshly.
"You think Arthur Croft was a saint who loved your mother and wanted to build a fairytale kingdom for his little girl?"
"Arthur was a coward who hid behind high estate walls and expensive scotch!" Victoria spat with bitter malice.
"He didn't just hide you to protect his public company, Clara; he hid you because Helen made him choose between duty and dishonor."
"What does that mean?" I demanded, stepping forward from the shadow of the concrete wall.
Victoria let out a raspy, cracked laugh that sounded like dry autumn leaves scraping across concrete.
"Ask your brother why your father kept a locked cottage in Rosewood Valley that no family member was ever permitted to visit," Victoria mocked.
"Arthur spent five million dollars renovating an old stone farmhouse fifty miles north of the city under a blind trust."
"Helen lived there during the first three years of your life, before I discovered the invoices in Arthur's corporate accounts."
"Your father didn't abandon Helen; Helen abandoned him because she refused to be his dirty little executive secret," Victoria sneered.
"And if you go to Rosewood Cottage, behind the hearth in the stone cellar, you will find Arthur's real confession."
"The confession that proves Arthur Croft never intended for any of his children to inherit a single dollar of this dynasty."
Victoria leaned back, a twisted, triumphant smile spreading across her cracked lips.
"Sign the bail petition as my legal guarantor, Clara, and I will hand over the keys to that cellar," Victoria bargained with desperate hunger.
Clara stood up slowly, smoothing the wrinkles from her dark tailored slacks without showing a flicker of emotion.
"Keep your keys, Victoria," Clara said softly, her voice echoing with devastating finality against the cinderblock walls.
"Julian already pulled the estate property deeds from Father's private land registry this morning."
"We don't need your permission to walk through the front door of our own father's home."
Victoria’s triumphant smile dissolved instantly into a scream of helpless rage as Clara turned her back and walked toward the exit buzzer.
"You will hate him when you read what he did to your mother!" Victoria shrieked, thrashing against her metal handcuffs until the guards restrained her.
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"You will wish you remained an invisible maid scrubbing our marble floors!" she screamed into the empty corridor.
Clara did not turn around; she pressed the exit button, stepped through the heavy steel door, and left Victoria screaming in the dark.
