Chapter 7
The fluorescent lights of the federal holding facility buzzed with a low, headache-inducing frequency. Julian sat at a scratched metal table, the steel cuffs chaining his wrists to a bolted metal loop in the center of the surface. His white button-down shirt was now thoroughly wrinkled, the cuffs stained with dirt from the hotel floor, and his dark hair fell messily across his forehead. He looked every bit the cornered animal, stripped of his wealth, his influence, and his freedom. The heavy steel door swung open with a loud metallic click, and Agent Miller stepped into the room, carrying a thick manila folder that he dropped onto the table with a heavy thud. Miller was a veteran investigator with tired eyes and a no-nonsense demeanor that brooked no argument. He pulled out the metal chair opposite Julian and sat down without a word, opening the folder to reveal page after page of transaction logs, digital signatures, and shell company charters. "Let’s not waste time, Mr. Vance," Miller said, his voice flat and professional. "We have every wire transfer you made over the last decade. We have the server logs from your Cayman accounts, and more importantly, we have your wife’s full cooperation." Julian’s head snapped up, his dark eyes flashing with sudden fury. "Clara is a liar and a manipulator. Anything she told you was done under duress," Julian spat out, his voice echoing in the small room. Miller didn't even blink; he simply slid a photograph across the table. It was a picture of Clara in the back of the ambulance, hooked up to monitors with her face bruised and battered. "She didn't look like she was under duress when she handed over the master decryption keys, Julian," Miller replied calmly. "She gave us everything. The Swiss accounts, the real estate holdings in Zurich, the shell corporations registered in your dog's name. It’s all gone. The government has seized it, and Marianne Vance has filed civil forfeiture claims on the rest." Julian stared at the photograph, the reality of his situation finally sinking into his bones. His empire, built on decades of ruthless financial engineering, had been dismantled in less than twenty-four hours. He leaned back in his chair, the metal chain rattling against the table. "She set us up," Julian whispered, the realization tasting like ash in his mouth. "Marianne planned this from the very beginning." Miller leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "If you want to salvage anything of your future, Julian, you’re going to start talking about the board members who helped you cover it up. Otherwise, you’re going to spend the rest of your natural life in a maximum-security federal penitentiary."
