Chapter 7 - The Interrogation Room
Thomas Vance sat in a cold, grey federal interrogation room, looking absolutely miserable.
His expensive tailored suit was wrinkled, and his arrogant face was pale with deep exhaustion.
Two hard-nosed federal prosecutors sat across from him, sliding a massive stack of printed emails across the metal table.
"Your own daughter handed us the exact keys to your entire criminal kingdom, Thomas," the lead prosecutor stated.
My father glared at the documents, his jaw clenching with an overwhelming, violent rage.
"She is a mentally unstable liar who hacked into my private servers to frame me," he lied smoothly.
The prosecutor simply chuckled, shaking his head at the pathetic attempt at deflection.
"The IP addresses match your personal office computer, and we have security footage of you making the wire transfers."
My father realized instantly that his usual charm and intimidation tactics were completely useless here.
He demanded to speak to his high-priced defense attorney immediately.
The prosecutor smiled coldly and informed him that his primary lawyer had just resigned.
The lawyer refused to represent a client whose stolen assets were completely frozen by the government.
Without his stolen money, my father was just a weak, angry old man in a cheap metal chair.
He was facing over thirty years in federal prison for racketeering, wire fraud, and grand larceny.
He buried his face in his trembling hands, the reality of his absolute destruction finally settling in.
He had built his entire identity on the illusion of absolute power and immense wealth.
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Now, he was stripped completely bare, exposed as a pathetic coward to the entire world.
The king of Texas real estate was officially dead.
