Chapter 10
The interrogation room at the federal building smelled faintly of industrial disinfectant and stale coffee. The walls were painted a sterile, muted gray, broken only by a large two-way mirror reflecting the stark fluorescent overhead lights. Julian sat at the metal table, his black suit jacket entirely gone, his white shirt collar unbuttoned as he stared blankly at his handcuffed wrists. The arrogance that had defined his demeanor in the executive suite had completely evaporated, replaced by the hollow shock of a man who had traded his integrity for a gilded cage and lost everything in the bargain.
The door clicked open, and Clara stepped into the room, holding a single manila folder. She didn't sit across from him immediately; instead, she paused near the corner of the table, looking down at the man who had watched her fall on his foyer floor without lifting a finger to stop his wife’s cruelty or validate her truth. Julian slowly raised his head, his eyes bloodshot and haunted, carrying the weight of a betrayal that cut both ways.
“She’s gone, Julian,” Clara said quietly, her voice devoid of malice or triumph. “The federal accounts have been frozen, and Interpol has a red notice out for her passport. She left you to take the full fall for the embezzlement scheme while she cleaned out the secondary offshore trusts.”
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Julian let out a dry, humorless laugh that sounded like a sob. He shook his head slowly, looking at his bound hands. “I knew she was ruthless. I thought… I thought I was smart enough to control it. I thought our name and our money insulated us from consequences.”
“Money only insulates you until you build your foundation on sand,” Clara replied, placing the folder on the table between them. It contained the complete, unredacted audit report—the very documents Elena had tried to destroy by pushing her down the stairs. “You had a choice every single day, Julian. You chose compliance over conscience. Now you have to face the jury.”
