Chapter 5 - The Cold Cell
The holding cell smelled of stale disinfectant, old metal, and unwashed despair. The concrete walls were painted a dull, depressing institutional gray, illuminated by a single recessed light fixture protected by a thick wire cage in the ceiling. Mark sat on the edge of the narrow metal bunk, his wrists still aching from the tight handcuffs. The grey jacket he wore felt heavy and suffocating in the stifling heat of the station basement.
He stared at his hands, replaying the sequence of events over and over in his mind. Clara had meticulously planned this coup. From the fake financial transfer to the missing camera and the forged eviction notice, every piece of the puzzle had been put into motion long before Elena hit the carpet. But the most terrifying part wasn't the lost money or the false arrest—it was Elena's safety. Was she getting proper medical care at the hospital, or was Clara's reach wide enough to intercept her there too?
The heavy iron door clanked loudly, echoing down the empty corridor. A guard with a bored expression slid a small plastic tray through the food slot in the bottom of the door.
"Reynolds. You have a visitor," the guard muttered, not even bothering to look Mark in the eye before turning on his heel and walking away.
Mark didn't move for a long moment. Visitors weren't allowed until morning arraignment hours unless special clearance was granted. He stood up slowly, his joints stiff, and walked over to the reinforced glass partition separating the holding area from the consultation booths.
Sitting on the other side of the glass wasn't a court-appointed public defender, nor was it a police investigator. It was Victor Vance, the senior partner at Sterling Holdings' corporate legal firm, wearing an impeccably tailored charcoal suit that looked entirely out of place in the dingy police station. Victor picked up the heavy plastic telephone receiver, his expression completely unreadable.
Mark hesitantly picked up his own receiver, pressing it against his ear. The line hissed with static before Victor spoke in a low, measured tone.
"You played a very dangerous game, Mark, trying to push Clara out of the family business," Victor said smoothly, tapping a fountain pen against the wooden ledge.
"Victor, you know me! You know Clara forged those documents and attacked my pregnant wife!" Mark yelled through the glass, his fist slamming against the partition.
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Victor didn't flinch. Instead, he slid a single piece of paper under the glass slot, revealing a handwritten note signed in Elena's unmistakable handwriting, stating she was filing for sole custody and cutting all ties.
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