Chapter 7 - The Interrogation Room
The visitation room at the Metropolitan Correctional Center was small, windowless, and smelled faintly of floor wax and stale disinfectant. A heavy pane of scratched acrylic glass separated the two steel tables, and the low hum of fluorescent lights overhead buzzed with irritating persistence.
The heavy steel door on the prisoner’s side opened with a loud clatter. Adrian was led in by two burly guards. The sight of him was shocking.
Gone were the three-thousand-dollar tailored tuxedos, the styled hair, and the air of effortless aristocratic charm. Adrian wore an ill-fitting, orange prison-issue jumpsuit that hung loosely on his shoulders. His dark hair was messy and unwashed, and a dark purple bruise was already forming beneath his left eye—a clear sign that the general population had little sympathy for a disgraced billionaire accused of abusing women and ordering contract killings.
He sat down heavily on the metal stool, his cuffed hands clinking against the surface. When he looked up and saw me sitting across from him in my clean wool coat, his eyes flashed with pure venom. He picked up the heavy plastic phone receiver with trembling, shackled fingers.
I picked up the receiver on my side and held it to my ear.
""You think you’re so clever, don't you, Clara?"" Adrian hissed into the mouthpiece, his breath fogging up the glass. ""You think you won a prize today? Look at me! You destroyed my life! You destroyed my family! My mother is facing twenty years in Danbury! Our company is bankrupt!""
""You destroyed your own life the day you decided to tamper with my father’s brakes, Adrian,"" I replied, my voice steady, cool, and completely devoid of the fear that used to choke me whenever he raised his voice. ""And you destroyed it every single night you raised your hand against me in that apartment.""
""You were nothing before me!"" Adrian barked, slamming his cuffed fists onto the metal counter. The guard behind him took a menacing step forward, and Adrian quickly pulled his hands back, breathing heavily. ""You were just Arthur Jenkins’ mousey little daughter! I gave you status! I made you someone people looked at with envy! You could have had everything. You could have lived in a palace for the rest of your life. All you had to do was say two words at the altar!""
""I did say two words, Adrian,"" I smiled softly, looking him dead in the eye. ""'No' and 'Goodbye.'""
He glared at me, his lip curling in disgust. ""My lawyers will tear that audio recording apart in court. They'll say it was spliced. They'll say Frank Miller was coerced by the police. In six months, I’ll be out on an appeal, Clara. And when I walk out those gates, I will spend every dollar I have left making sure you regret what you did today.""
""You don't have any dollars left, Adrian,"" I said calmly, leaning closer to the glass. ""Twenty minutes ago, the Securities and Exchange Commission froze all domestic and international accounts tied to Blackwell Capital. Your lead defense attorney, Julian Sterling, dropped you as a client this afternoon because your retainer check bounced. The feds found your private ledger in the dressing room wall safe.""
Adrian’s face drained of color for the third time that day, his eyes widening in complete shock. ""You... you found the safe?""
""Every page, Adrian. Every bribe. Every offshore account. Frank Miller has already given a full sworn deposition. The grand jury indicted you on seventeen felony counts an hour ago. You aren't getting an appeal. You aren't getting bail. You will spend the rest of your natural life in a maximum-security prison cell, eating on plastic trays, wearing orange cotton, and answering to a number.""
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He dropped the phone receiver, letting it dangle by its metal cord against the partition. He stared at me through the scratched glass, entirely stripped of his power, his pride, and his delusion of godhood. For the first time in our three years together, Adrian Blackwell looked truly small.
I hung up my receiver, stood up from the steel table, and turned toward the exit. I didn't look back once.
