Chapter 9 - THE FINAL STRIKEThe next morning, I walked into the federal prosecutor’s office downtown, carrying the flash drive encased in a secure evidence pouch.
Marcus Thorne was waiting for me in the conference room alongside Senior Federal Prosecutor David Vance (no relation to Julian).
"Elena, we received your digital transmission late last night," Prosecutor Vance said, his expression grave as he looked over the printed forensic summary of my father's ruined firm. "If these documents are verified—and our preliminary analysis confirms they are—this elevates Adrian Cole’s federal case from standard white-collar wire fraud to systemic corporate racketeering and premeditated fraud resulting in severe financial ruin and indirect fatality."
"I want every single charge brought against him," I said, my voice steady, cold, and absolute. "No plea deals. No reduced sentencing. I want him prosecuted to the absolute maximum limit of the law."
"Consider it done," Marcus nodded, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "With this new evidence, Adrian won't just be looking at a few years in a minimum-security facility. He's looking at hard federal time in a maximum-security penitentiary, with zero chance of early parole."
"Good," I murmured.
May you like
As I walked out of the federal building into the crisp morning air, I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't used in months—Adrian’s defense attorney.
"Tell my husband," I said clearly into the receiver, "that his grand design is finished. And tell him that Elena Vance sends her regards."
