Chapter 4 - THE CHARADE BEGINSWord Count Goal: ~1500 words
Three days later, the news of the incident at the Sterling retreat had been completely suppressed from the public eye—not because we were hiding, but because Alvin Sterling controlled the local media outlets. As far as the public and the financial markets were concerned, Maya Sterling was resting comfortably at home following a minor pregnancy scare.
Diego Vance, however, was in a living hell.
He sat in a private, windowless interrogation room at the county police station, his thousand-dollar suit rumpled, his hair greasy, and his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. Beside him sat his high-priced defense attorney, Julian Thorne, who was nervously flicking through a legal notepad.
The heavy steel door swung open.
Instead of the police detective, Alvin Sterling’s chief legal counsel, Arthur Pendelton—a legendary corporate attorney whose mere presence in a courtroom usually signaled bankruptcy for the opposing party—walked into the room. He carried a single manila envelope, setting it down precisely in the center of the table.
“Mr. Vance,” Pendelton said smoothly, taking a seat opposite the shaken man. “I’ll be brief. My client, Alvin Sterling, has reviewed the police reports.”
Diego leaned forward, his hands trembling as he gripped the edge of the table. “Where is Maya?! I need to see my wife! This is all a huge misunderstanding! The security system malfunctioned! I was trying to help her!”
Pendelton didn't even blink. He slowly opened the envelope and pulled out a stack of glossy, high-definition photographs.
He slid them across the table one by one.
The first photo showed Diego standing over me while the water hit my body. The second showed his face in sharp detail—bored, cold, checking his watch. The third showed the red telemetry light flashing on my wrist, with the exact timestamp printed at the bottom: 11:43:02 PM. Core temp: 88.4°F.
Julian Thorne, Diego’s attorney, looked at the photos, closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Diego... shut up immediately.”
“These photos, alongside the unedited 4K video and audio recordings from sixteen distinct angles, have already been filed with the district attorney,” Pendelton said, his voice as smooth as crushed ice. “Attempted murder of a pregnant woman carries a sentence of twenty-five years to life in this jurisdiction. Felony domestic assault carries fifteen. Fraud and grand larceny add another ten.”
Diego’s mouth worked silently, but no sound came out. The color drained completely from his face.
“However,” Pendelton continued, adjusting his silk tie, “my client is a reasonable man. Maya is... tender-hearted. She believes in second chances.”
Diego’s head snapped up. A desperate, disgusting glimmer of hope lit up in his dark eyes. “She... she forgives me?”
“She is willing to drop the criminal charges,” Pendelton lied with incredible skill. “Under three specific conditions.”
“Anything!” Diego gasped instantly. “Name it! I’ll do anything!”
“First,” Pendelton began, pulling out a document, “you will sign a full, unconditional confession of your financial fraud regarding the Macao syndicate debts, which will be kept in a private legal vault, released only if you breach this contract.”
“Done,” Diego said without hesitation.
“Second, you will agree to attend a private residential rehab and anger-management facility in Texas for ninety days—starting immediately. No phone, no internet, no contact with the outside world except through approved legal counsel.”
Diego frowned slightly, looking at his attorney. “Ninety days? But my holding company’s quarterly board meeting is next month!”
“If you are in prison, Mr. Vance, your holding company will be bankrupt by Friday,” Pendelton noted dryly. “And third... you will sign over management power-of-attorney regarding your company shares to Maya while you are in treatment, so she can protect the family assets from your creditors.”
Julian Thorne grabbed Diego’s arm, leaning in close. “Diego, don't sign that! Power of attorney gives her total control over your business!”
“It’s ninety days!” Diego hissed back at his lawyer, his voice desperate. “It keeps me out of a prison jumpsuit! Once I get out, Maya and I can fix our marriage! She’s pregnant with my child, Julian! She still loves me—she’s just hurting!”
Diego grabbed the pen from the table, his hands shaking as he hastily signed his name at the bottom of every single page. He pushed the papers back to Pendelton, a cocky, arrogant grin slowly creeping back onto his face.
“Tell Maya I love her,” Diego said, straightening his rumpled jacket. “Tell her I’ll be back in ninety days, better than ever.”
Pendelton gathered the signed documents, slid them neatly back into his briefcase, and stood up. He looked down at Diego with an expression of profound, unspoken contempt.
“Oh, you’ll certainly be back in ninety days, Mr. Vance,” Pendelton murmured as he walked toward the door. “We are counting down the minutes.”
May you like
As the heavy door clicked shut behind Pendelton, Diego let out a long sigh of relief, turning to his lawyer. “See? I told you. Women like Maya... they’re soft. Give them a little time, tell them what they want to hear, and they fall right back in line.”
Julian Thorne looked at his client with deep pity, shaking his head as he packed up his notebook. “Diego... you really are the blindest idiot I’ve ever represented.”
