Chapter 6 - The Secret Partner
The heavy silence that followed Agent Miller’s accusation seemed to stretch on indefinitely, broken only by the soft, rhythmic clicking of a forensic accountant’s keyboard in the background. Julian maintained his rigid posture, his hands clasped neatly behind his back, but the faint tremor in his fingers betrayed the immense pressure he was under. He looked down at Elena, his gaze hardening into a silent warning that told her precisely what would happen if she dared to contradict his narrative.
"Agent Miller," Julian said, his voice smooth and measured once more, "if you are finished implying conspiracies where only a tragedy exists, perhaps you can let Mrs. Vance retire to her quarters. She has had a deeply traumatic twenty-four hours, and keeping her here under these conditions borders on psychological intimidation."
Miller studied Julian for a long moment, a faint, cynical smile touching the corners of his mouth.
"Of course, Mr. Vance. We wouldn't want to upset the bride," Miller said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He turned his attention back to Elena, his eyes softening slightly with a hint of genuine professional concern. "For now, Mrs. Vance, you are free to leave the premises. But your passport has been flagged, and I strongly advise you not to leave the city. We will need your formal deposition within forty-eight hours."
Elena nodded mechanically, standing up from the table. The heavy layers of the sleeveless white wedding dress felt like lead weights around her ankles as she walked toward the exit, ignoring Julian entirely as she brushed past him.
Once they were outside the banquet hall in the dimly lit corridor, Julian caught up to her, his hand gripping her elbow just firmly enough to stop her without causing a scene in front of the lingering security guards.
"Don't say a word to the federal investigators about what we discussed before the ceremony," Julian whispered urgently, his face inches from hers, his breath smelling faintly of scotch and mint. "If you try to pin this on me to save your own skin, Elena, I promise you won't survive the fallout. The board will tear you apart in civil court, and you'll lose every single penny you think you're entitled to."
Elena looked down at his hand gripping her arm, then raised her eyes to meet his with a cold, fearless stare that caught him completely off guard.
"You think I care about the money, Julian?" Elena asked quietly, her voice ringing with a chilling clarity. "My husband is dead, my wedding night is a crime scene, and you’re standing there threatening me over accounts I didn't even know existed. Let go of my arm before I scream for Agent Miller and show him the text messages you sent Thomas yesterday morning."
Julian’s eyes flared with genuine shock, his fingers instantly releasing her arm as if he had touched a live wire.
"What text messages?" Julian demanded, his voice dropping into a desperate hiss. "I didn't send Thomas anything yesterday."
"Didn't you?" Elena asked with a grim, humorless smile, adjusting the straps of her dress. "Then I suppose you won't mind if I let the FBI check your deleted folder when they seize your phone tomorrow morning."
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Before Julian could formulate a response, the elevator doors at the end of the corridor slid open, and a tall, elegant woman in a dark velvet evening gown stepped out, holding a manila envelope labeled CONFIDENTIAL - INTERNAL AFFAIRS. She locked eyes with Julian, her expression freezing instantly as she realized she had walked right into a private confrontation.
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