Chapter 6 - The Rat in the Trap
A week later, I was called into the federal building to give my formal deposition. As I walked down the sterile hallway, looking sharp in a tailored black suit—the exact opposite of a helpless bride—I saw her.
Victoria Sterling was sitting on a bench outside the interrogation rooms. She looked ten years older. Her roots were showing, her posture was slumped, and the haughty arrogance that usually radiated from her was entirely gone.
When she saw me, her eyes flashed with a dying spark of venom. She stood up, a federal marshal instantly stepping between us.
"You ruined my family," she hissed, her voice trembling. "You took everything we built."
I stopped and looked her up and down. "You built an empire on theft, Victoria. You stole from pensions, you blackmailed honest people, and you thought you could use me as your shield."
"You were nothing before us!" she spat. "A little middle-class nobody."
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"And yet," I said, leaning in slightly, "the middle-class nobody outsmarted you. I hope you remember that every time they lock your cell block at night."
I walked into the deposition room without looking back, leaving her to scream at the marshals.
