Chapter 8 - The Fall of the Firstborn
While we saved the company, Victoria was experiencing the brutal reality of the criminal justice system.
Denied bail due to the sheer volume of the financial fraud and the attempted assault in the warehouse, Victoria sat in a stark, gray holding cell. She wore a bright orange jumpsuit, her expensive blowout ruined, her manicured nails chipped.
I visited her exactly once.
We sat on opposite sides of a thick pane of reinforced glass. She picked up the heavy black phone receiver.
“Have you come to gloat?” she sneered, though her voice shook.
“I came to bring you these,” I said, sliding a manila envelope through the small slot at the bottom of the glass.
Victoria opened it. Inside were the divorce papers Richard had filed that morning. He was attempting to throw her completely under the bus, claiming she was the mastermind behind the entire operation and offering to testify against her in exchange for a plea deal.
Tears finally welled in Victoria’s eyes. Genuine tears of realization.
“He betrayed me,” she whispered.
“There is no loyalty among thieves, Victoria,” I said softly. “You built your entire life on a foundation of lies and arrogance. You thought you were untouchable because you were the oldest in the house. But you forgot that Dad valued integrity over birth order.”
“I have nothing,” she sobbed, pressing her hand against the glass. “Please. Talk to the board. Drop the charges. I’ll go away. I’ll never bother you again.”
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“The state is pressing the charges now, Victoria. It’s out of my hands.” I stood up, adjusting my coat. “You wanted the estate so badly, you destroyed your own life to get it. I hope it was worth it.”
I hung up the receiver and walked out of the prison, leaving her alone in the world she had created.
