Chapter 15 - Letters to Nowhere
Deep inside the maximum-security concrete bowels of USP Marion, Cell Block C was dead silent, save for the rhythmic dripping of a leaky pipe down the tier.
Vincent Carter sat on a narrow steel bunk, staring blankly at the gray concrete wall opposite his cell. His hands, once used to sign multi-million-dollar shipping contracts and hold the lives of rivals in the balance, were now calloused and stained with cheap prison soap.
A guard walked down the tier, tossing a small white envelope onto the concrete floor of Vincent's cell.
"Mail call, Carter. Though God knows who’d write to a rat like you."
Vincent didn't move for a long time. Finally, his bare feet scraped against the cold floor. He bent down and picked up the envelope.
There was no return address. The handwriting was neat, sharp, and precise.
He ripped open the flap and pulled out a single sheet of heavy cream-colored stationery.
“Vincent,
I thought you might want an update. Julian took his first steps today. He has my eyes, and thankfully, none of your temper. The South Side shipping lanes are running at a record ninety-eight percent efficiency under our new management. The federal government accepted our restructuring settlement last Tuesday, leaving your personal liability completely isolated.
You wanted an empire, Vincent. You spent your whole life bleeding people dry to build a throne of glass and steel.
I just thought you should know—I look great sitting on it.
— Madison.”
Vincent’s hands began to shake violently. He stared at the signature at the bottom of the page, the ink dark and unyielding. He opened his mouth to scream, to roar with the fury of a fallen mob boss, but no sound came out.
May you like
His throat felt dry. His chest tightened.
He clutched the letter against his chest, dropping to his knees on the cold concrete floor as the heavy steel bars of his cell locked him away from the world forever.
