Chapter 7 - THE DESPERATE GAMBIT"You can't do this!" I roared, lunging forward despite the heavy cuffs, only to be jerked back by the invisible tether of the law. "He’s my son, too! I have parental rights!"
Sarah didn't flinch. She didn't blink. She simply watched me thrash like a trapped animal, her expression as cold and indifferent as a tombstone.
"Rights are earned through responsibility, Richard, not biology," she said quietly. She turned her back on me, walking back toward the panoramic window to look down at the Seattle streets below. "Your arraignment is scheduled for tomorrow morning. Your defense attorney, Marcus Chen, has already recused himself after realizing the extent of the financial liabilities you dragged him into. You're completely alone."
Before I could hurl another threat, the glass door swung fully open, and Agents Vance and Miller stepped back into the room.
"Time's up, Mrs. Dalton," Agent Vance said politely.
"Thank you, Agent," Sarah replied, smoothing the lapel of her jacket. She walked past me without another glance, her heels clicking steadily against the hardwood floor until the private elevator doors chimed, swallowed her up, and carried her down into the world she had successfully conquered.
"Let's go, Mr. Dalton," Agent Miller said, grabbing my arm.
The next forty-eight hours were a blur of fluorescent lights, holding cells, the cold iron of jail bars, and the sterile interrogation rooms of the federal courthouse.
My arraignment was swift and brutal. The judge denied bail, citing the high flight risk and the extensive evidence of international asset concealment. Arthur Sterling and my former partners distanced themselves entirely, releasing a public statement denouncing my actions and cooperating fully with the prosecution.
Vanessa Cole had completely vanished—her phone disconnected, her apartment empty, having fled the state the moment she realized her association with me could land her in a federal penitentiary.
I sat in my bleak holding cell on the third night, staring at the gray concrete walls.
The irony was crushing. I had spent six months sneaking around behind Sarah's back, convinced I was the mastermind of my own double life. In reality, I had been walking inside a glass labyrinth she had constructed around me piece by piece, waiting for the exact moment to shatter it.
Then, a guard appeared outside my cell bars.
"Dalton. You have a visitor. Legal consultation booth three."
My heart leaped with a desperate spark of hope. Marcus? An appellate attorney? Someone who had found a loophole?
I hurried out, my chains clinking against the floor, and entered the small, partitioned booth.
Sitting on the other side of the scratched plexiglass partition was not a lawyer.
It was a middle-aged man I had never seen before in my life, wearing an expensive bespoke suit and holding a thick manila folder. He slid the folder through the narrow slot at the bottom of the glass.
"Who are you?" I demanded, sitting down and clutching the edge of the table.
May you like
The man offered a polite, professional smile.
"My name is Julian Vance. I represent Sarah Dalton."
