Chapter 6 - The Blood Money Banquet
The damp, metallic scent of the police precinct holding cell clung to Elena’s skin like a second coat. The intricate white lace of her wedding dress was now stained with dirt and smeared with dust from the floor of the St. Regis penthouse. Sitting on the cold metal bench, her wrists still aching from the tight zip-ties, she stared blankly at the concrete wall across from her.
The heavy steel door clanked open, and a tired-looking public defender named Miller stepped inside, carrying a thick manila folder under his arm.
"Elena Vance?" the lawyer asked, peering over his reading glasses. "Or is it Davis? The booking desk has you listed under three different aliases depending on which offshore shell corporation the prosecutor is looking at."
"My name is Elena Davis," she corrected sharply, standing up to face him. "And I am completely innocent. My husband set me up using my biometric data when we went to the courthouse this morning. You have to help me prove it."
Miller sighed heavily, sitting down at the small metal table in the center of the holding cell and gesturing for her to sit. "Mrs. Vance, let’s be entirely realistic here. The district attorney isn't just looking at a minor white-collar crime. They have a signed corporate transfer, four million dollars in missing funds, and an affidavit from Victoria Vance herself swearing that you masterminded the entire operation."
"Victoria is lying!" Elena slammed her hands onto the table, making the metal clatter. "She knew Marcus stole the biotech formula and the money! She sacrificed me to protect the company’s stock price!"
"If she sacrificed you, she did a thorough job of it," Miller said quietly, opening the manila folder and sliding a single piece of paper across the table. "Look at this. It’s the original receipt for the payment of your million-dollar wedding reception at the St. Regis."
Elena frowned, glancing down at the document. "What about it? Marcus paid for it. Or at least, that’s what he told me."
"That's what makes this fascinating," Miller replied, tapping his pen against the paper. "The funds for this entire wedding—every single white rose, every bottle of champagne in that mahogany box, the string quartet—didn't come from Marcus's accounts. And they didn't come from your personal savings."
Elena’s heart skipped a beat. "Then whose account did it come from?"
"It came from an endowment fund managed by a silent partner," Miller said, watching her reaction closely. "A man who legally changed his name ten years ago, but whose original signature is notarized on every single document linking your family to the Vance empire."
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Elena stared at the name printed at the bottom of the wire transfer authorization, her breath catching in her throat as she realized the horrifying truth.
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