The heavy oak doors of the Vance estate didn't just open—they splintered under a calculated, synchronized breach.

When Julian walked in, flanked by a correctional officer, he looked like a ghost of the man who had strutted into my baby shower three days ago. His expensive tailored suit was rumpled, his shirt collar was unbuttoned, and dark, heavy circles bruised the skin beneath his bloodshot eyes. The arrogant sheen of invincibility was completely gone, replaced by a pathetic, desperate panic.

The officer unlocked his handcuffs, gestured for him to sit across the steel table from me, and stepped back into the shadows by the reinforced glass door.

Julian stared at me for a long, agonizing moment. His lips trembled slightly before he managed to choke out words.

"Clara..." He reached across the table, his hand trembling, aiming to grab mine.

I didn't move an inch. I simply stared at his hand until, flushing with shame, he slowly pulled it back and buried his face in his palms.

"Clara, please," he whimpered, his voice cracking. "You have to help me. My father... he’s completely lost his mind. He’s blaming everyone, but the prosecutors are saying I’m the primary corporate signatory on the shell accounts. They’re talking thirty years, Clara. Thirty years in a federal penitentiary!"

"Thirty years," I repeated, my tone completely devoid of emotion. "That sounds like a lot of time to reflect on your choices, Julian."

"It was a mistake!" he cried out, his voice rising in pitch before the guard banged a baton against the door. Julian flinched, lowering his voice to a hoarse, miserable whisper. "It was business! My father set it up before we even met! I just... I just kept it going to maintain the family lifestyle. For us! For our future!"

"For our future?" I let out a dry, humorless laugh that made him shrink back. "Julian, you brought a twenty-two-year-old gold-digger into my baby shower, introduced her as the mother of your 'real heir,' watched your mother toast to my humiliation, and then you struck me—a pregnant woman—so hard I crashed into a table of baby gifts."

Julian swallowed hard, sweat beading on his forehead. "I was angry! Chloe got into my head, she told me—she said you were hiding things, that you were too cold, too distant—"

"And you believed her because you wanted an excuse," I interrupted, leaning forward. The fluorescent lights overhead reflected off my eyes like shards of broken glass. "You wanted a trophy wife who would stroke your fragile ego, while I was the inconvenient reminder of a life you were too shallow to understand."

"Where is Chloe?" Julian blurted out, a flash of bitter resentment cutting through his fear. "The cops said her family's accounts are frozen too. She... she won't even answer my lawyers' calls. She blocked my number."

"Did you really expect loyalty from someone whose only currency is her body and her ambition?" I asked, shaking my head with pity. "Chloe didn't want you, Julian. She wanted the Vance name. And now the Vance name is worth less than toilet paper."

Julian stared at me, the final remnants of his pride shattering into dust. He slid off his chair, dropping heavily to his knees right there on the sticky linoleum floor of the visitation room, pressing his forehead against the edge of the steel table.

"Please, Clara," he sobbed, his shoulders shaking. "You have the decryption keys. You have the master files. You can tell the prosecutors it was a misunderstanding, that you fabricated the evidence during a mental breakdown—anything! They’ll listen to you! You're a hero, you have military commendations—"

I looked down at him, my expression a mask of absolute, chilling indifference.

"I was a hero when I served my country, Julian," I said softly, standing up and smoothing my skirt. "When I came home, I tried to be a wife. But you stripped away that title with your own hands."

I tapped the table with my knuckles, signaling the guard.

"Clara! Clara! Don't leave me here! CLARA!" Julian screamed, his voice dissolving into pathetic hysterics as the guard grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him back up into his chair.