Chapter 8 - The Price of Treason
"What do you want, Caroline?" Nathan wept into his palms, his voice muffled and broken. "You took my job. You took my stock. You froze my accounts. You left me with nothing."
"You came into my life with nothing, Nathan," I replied, standing up and walking toward the terrace doors. "And you will leave it with nothing."
Arthur Vance stepped into the living room from the adjoining library, carrying two thick leather briefcases and three certified legal dockets.
"Nathan Prescott," Arthur announced, resting the folders on the dining table. "Here are the terms of your absolute surrender."
Nathan raised his tear-stained face, blinking through swollen eyes.
"First," Arthur outlined, "you will sign an uncontested divorce decree, waiving all claims to alimony, residential property division, and marital retirement assets."
"I'll sign it," Nathan whispered immediately, not hesitating for a single second. "I'll sign whatever you want."
"Second," Arthur continued, "you will execute a complete confession of corporate embezzlement and wire fraud, detailing your misuse of Prescott Commercial funds."
Nathan’s head snapped up, his eyes widening in terror. "A confession?! That will send me to federal prison!"
"The confession will be held in private escrow by Vance & Sterling," I interjected, stepping back into the room. "As long as you leave the state of New York, surrender all professional commercial licenses, and never contact me again, the confession remains in our vault."
"And if I refuse?" Nathan stammered.
"If you refuse," Arthur smiled coldly, "the federal marshals waiting in the lobby downstairs will arrest you before you reach the front revolving doors. You are looking at a mandatory minimum of twelve years at the Federal Correctional Institution in Coleman, Florida."
Nathan looked at the paperwork, then looked at Brooke, who was sitting on the floor by the foyer, crying silently, clutching her pregnant stomach.
He realized with devastating clarity that there was no way out. The web I had woven around him was unbreakable.
He picked up the gold pen Arthur provided, his hand trembling so violently that his signature wavered across the legal lines.
He signed the divorce petition. He signed the asset forfeiture. He signed his own professional execution.
He pushed the papers back across the table, looking up at me with dead, hollow eyes.
May you like
"What am I supposed to do now, Caroline?" he whispered. "Where am I supposed to go?"
"That is between you and the mother of your child, Nathan," I answered, looking at Brooke. "Because starting today, you are completely on your own."
