Chapter 7 - The Deposition
The conference room at the District Attorney's office was sterile, smelling of stale coffee and industrial cleaner. Marcus sat across the massive oak table, looking like a ghost. He had lost fifteen pounds. His hair was thinning, his eyes sunken and dark.
His court-appointed lawyer—because he could no longer afford private counsel—looked incredibly bored.
I sat next to Mr. Sterling, wearing a tailored navy suit. I looked at Marcus, and for a fleeting second, I remembered the man I had married. The charming, ambitious guy who had promised me the world. But that man never existed. It was all a mask.
"Mr. Thorne," the DA began, dropping a massive stack of folders onto the table. "We have the offshore records. We have the emails. We have the USB drive provided by your former associate, Ms. Vance. You sold proprietary bids belonging to Vance Real Estate Holdings to three rival firms over a period of four years."
Marcus stared at the folders, his jaw working silently. He looked up at me, his eyes filled with a toxic mixture of hatred and desperation.
"You set me up," he rasped, pointing a shaking finger at me. "The superfund site. You leaked that to me on purpose."
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Marcus," I said, my voice perfectly calm. "You made a bad real estate investment. That is your own fault."
"You took everything from me!" he shouted, slamming his fists on the table. The DA’s investigator stood up, placing a hand on his weapon, but I didn't flinch.
"No, Marcus," I replied, leaning forward. "You took everything from yourself. You thought my mother was just an old woman you could steal from. You thought I was a quiet, submissive wife who would look the other way while you paraded your mistress around town. You mistook my kindness for stupidity."
"I am offering a plea deal," the DA interrupted, shutting down the emotional outburst. "Ten years in federal prison for corporate espionage and wire fraud. Restitution of six million dollars to the Vance estate. If you take this to trial, with the evidence we have, I will ask the judge for twenty-five years."
Marcus looked at his lawyer. The lawyer simply nodded. There was no way out. The walls had completely closed in.
Marcus buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking as he began to weep. It was a pathetic, hollow sound. There was no dignity left in him.
May you like
I stood up, buttoning my suit jacket. "We are done here, Arthur."
I walked out of the conference room without looking back. I didn't need to see him cry. I had already shed all the tears I was going to shed for Marcus Thorne.
