Chapter 17 - Shadows in the Rearview Mirror
While the Moretti estate basked in peace and prosperity, life fifty miles away at the Devens Federal Correctional Institution was a stark, unyielding exercise in penance. Derek Montgomery sat on the edge of a narrow metal bunk, staring blankly at the gray cinder-block wall across from him.
The expensive designer suits and tailored Italian wool had long been replaced by standard-issue khaki prison garb. His hair was thinning significantly, the once-meticulously styled dark locks now streaked with heavy gray. The arrogance that had once defined him in Boston boardrooms had been thoroughly beaten out of him by months of hard manual labor in the prison laundry room and the harsh, indifferent hierarchy of federal inmates.
"Montgomery! Mail call!" a guard shouted, tossing a thick manila envelope onto the metal table outside his cell block.
Derek dragged himself off the bunk, his knees aching from the damp chill of the facility. He picked up the envelope, his hands trembling as he recognized the return address: The Massachusetts Superior Court Family Division.
He tore it open. Inside was a formal notification regarding his supervised visitation rights. Because of his impending release in the coming months, his legal counsel had filed a motion to explore the possibility of re-establishing contact with his son, Leo. Attached to the motion was a sternly worded addendum from Moretti Holdings’ chief legal counsel, Maren Ellis, outlining the ironclad restrictions: any future contact remained strictly contingent upon a psychological evaluation, complete fulfillment of financial restitution, and—most importantly—Khloe Moretti’s explicit, written consent.
May you like
Derek sank slowly onto the edge of the bunk, burying his face in his rough, calloused hands. A dry, choking sob escaped his throat. He finally realized the true magnitude of his losses. He hadn't just lost a business; he had traded a loyal, beautiful wife and a brilliant son for a fleeting illusion of social status and a mistress who had abandoned him the moment his bank accounts froze.
He had built a prison long before he ever walked through the iron gates of Devens—a prison constructed entirely of his own monumental greed and cruelty. And now, the woman he had treated like an expendable asset was the reigning queen of an empire he could never hope to touch.
