Chapter 5 - THE DESPERATION OF THE FALLEN
Forty minutes later, Tessa sat across from us in the private conference room on the 40th floor of Santoro Towers.
She looked unrecognizable. The designer wedding gown was gone, replaced by a rumpled wool coat. Her hair was unwashed, and her eyes were red-rimmed from hours of interrogation and panic.
When the heavy glass door opened and I walked in beside Veyron, Tessa flinched as if she had been struck.
“Marin,” she whimpered, sliding to the edge of her chair. “You have to help me. They’re saying I could face five to ten years in federal prison. Brett’s lawyers are trying to pin the entire embezzlement scheme on me! They’re saying I forged the transfer orders!”
I pulled out a chair, sat down smoothly, and crossed my legs, resting my hands neatly in my lap. I didn't say a word. I simply watched her—the same way she had watched me across my mother’s dinner table three weeks ago, holding a glass of wine while she dropped a bomb on my life.
“Tessa,” I said at last, my voice level and devoid of emotion. “When you stood in that kitchen and told me you had been sleeping with my fiancé for seven months, what did you expect me to do?”
“We were in love!” she cried, tears spilling over her cheeks. “It just... it happened! You were always so busy with your work, so independent—you didn't need Brett the way I did!”
“No,” I replied coldly. “I didn't need Brett to pay my bills, fund my lifestyle, or validate my existence. You needed him because you couldn't survive on your own merit.”
“Please, Marin! Drop the charges! Tell the prosecutor it was a misunderstanding!” Tessa lunged forward, slamming her palms against the conference table. “We’re sisters! We share the same blood!”
“Blood didn't stop you from forging our father’s signature,” Veyron spoke up for the first time, his voice cutting through her hysterics like a blade of ice. “Blood didn't stop you from looting a non-profit foundation to pay for a wedding designed to humiliate your own family. You chose your path, Mrs. Calder. Now you get to walk it.”
Tessa’s head snapped toward Veyron, fear flashing in her eyes. Then she looked back at me, her expression twisting from desperate pleading into bitter venom.
“You think you’ve won, don’t you?” she hissed, standing up so fast her chair screeched against the floor. “You think marrying a billionaire makes you untouchable? He doesn't love you, Marin! Men like Veyron Santoro don’t love anyone! You’re just another business acquisition to him—just a pawn in his corporate war!”
I stood up slowly, towering over her despite my shorter stature, my gaze steady and unyielding.
“Even if that were true, Tessa,” I whispered, stepping close enough for her to see the absolute chill in my eyes, “at least I chose my cage. You built yours out of stolen money and lies—and now the door is locked from the outside.”
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Tessa opened her mouth to scream, but two security guards materialized behind her, gripping her arms firmly and escorting her out of the room without a single word of protest.
The heavy glass doors clicked shut behind her, sealing out her cries.
