Chapter 12: The Interview
The holding cell at the downtown precinct was cold, smelling of stale coffee, disinfectant, and quiet desperation. Julian sat on the narrow metal bench, staring at his cuffed hands resting on his knees. The door swung open, and a public defender—a tired-looking man in a rumpled gray suit named Henderson—walked in, carrying a thin file folder. Henderson sat down across the metal table, flipping open the papers with a weary sigh. "Mr. Vance, I've reviewed your case file," Henderson said without looking up. "The prosecution has an airtight paper trail. Vanguard’s internal audit team provided financial records that track every single unauthorized dollar directly to your personal offshore accounts and Ms. Sterling’s boutique credit lines. It's an open-and-shut case of white-collar embezzlement." Julian swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. "Isn't there a plea deal? Can we negotiate restitution?" Henderson looked up, giving Julian a long, pitying look. "Restitution with whom? Vanguard Holdings doesn't negotiate with individuals who try to steal from their family trust. Furthermore, your wife's legal team has filed a comprehensive civil suit freezing all remaining assets, meaning you can't even afford private counsel. You're looking at five to ten years in a federal correctional facility, Mr. Vance. Your corporate career is permanently finished." The words hit Julian like a physical blow, driving the remaining air from his lungs. He had spent his entire life climbing the corporate ladder, stepping on others, cutting corners, and believing that his charm and intellect would always bail him out of trouble. Now, faced with the cold, unyielding machinery of the law and the absolute wrath of an heiress he had betrayed, he realized the magnitude of his fall. There were no loopholes left to exploit, no influential friends willing to take his call, and no lies clever enough to rewrite the ledger of his own misconduct.
