Chapter 9 - The Final Audit
Down in the city, far away from the quiet sanctuary of the northern estate, the federal penitentiary visiting room was cold, sterile, and smelling of disinfectant and cheap floor wax.
Trevor Evans sat on the other side of the reinforced glass partition, wearing a bright orange jumpsuit that hung loosely on his frame. His hair was unwashed, his cheeks hollow, and his eyes sunken with the relentless, crushing weight of despair.
The door behind the glass clicked open, and a prison guard led in a visitor.
It wasn't a corporate partner. It wasn't a lawyer.
It was Marcus—Julian Vance’s chief enforcer—dressed in his usual immaculate charcoal suit, holding a manila folder.
Marcus sat down slowly on the visitor’s side of the glass, picked up the heavy plastic telephone receiver, and gestured for Trevor to pick up his own.
With trembling fingers, Trevor lifted the receiver to his ear.
“Why are you here?” Trevor’s voice cracked, sounding thin and pathetic through the static of the speaker. “My lawyers already filed for an appeal. The sentence is absurd—”
Marcus didn't smile. He opened the manila folder with agonizing slowness, pulling out a single sheet of paper and holding it up against the glass so Trevor could read it.
It was a final corporate audit notice. Evans Capital had been completely dissolved. Every remaining patent, trademark, and personal asset had been permanently reassigned to a charitable foundation newly established under Sadie Vance’s name.
“There will be no successful appeal, Evans,” Marcus said, his voice entirely devoid of human emotion. “Mr. Vance ensured that your legal team hit every brick wall the federal system has to offer.”
Trevor stared at the paper through the glass, his breath fogging the surface. Tears of utter helplessness welled up in his eyes.
“She... she ruined me,” Trevor whispered, his voice trembling. “She took everything I worked for.”
Marcus slowly lowered the paper, his dark eyes locking onto Trevor’s through the glass with a terrifying, absolute clarity.
“You didn't lose everything because of her, Evans,” Marcus said quietly. “You lost everything because you thought you could break a woman who had already survived the worst the world could throw at her. You thought she was trash.”
Marcus stood up, buttoning his suit jacket.
May you like
“Mr. and Mrs. Vance send their regards,” he added smoothly.
He hung up the receiver, turned on his heel, and walked out of the visitation room without looking back once, leaving Trevor sitting alone in the cold silence of his own making.
