Chapter 15 - The Alliance In The Federal Cell
The visitor room at the Federal Correctional Institution in Fort Dix, New Jersey, was cold, sterile, and smelled of industrial bleach.
Thick bulletproof glass separated Sarah from Vincent, who sat wearing an olive-drab prison jumpsuit behind the partition.
His dark hair was cropped close to his scalp, his athletic frame leaner, but his eyes remained sharp, dark, and lethal.
He picked up the heavy plastic telephone receiver, pressing it against his ear as Sarah sat down across from him.
"You look tired, Sarah," Vincent noted softly, his dark eyes observing the faint shadows beneath her blue eyes.
"Dominick knows about Liam," Sarah stated directly into the phone, bypassing any polite small talk.
Vincent’s face hardened instantly, the casual demeanor vanishing as his jaw clenched into a tight, muscular knot.
"That old bastard has been sitting in Chicago like a vulture waiting for my father to die," Vincent growled into the receiver.
"How did he find out about the Swiss codicil?" Vincent demanded, his knuckles turning white against the plastic phone.
"Arthur Senior’s estate lawyer brought me the documents yesterday," Sarah explained softly.
"Clara was your cousin, Vincent," Sarah delivered, watching his face through the thick glass panel.
Vincent froze, his breath catching in his throat as the revelation registered in his mind with devastating force.
He stared at Sarah for ten long seconds, his mind frantically replaying the tragedy on the Cooper River Bridge eight years ago.
"My father... knew she was my cousin?" Vincent asked, his voice cracking with a rare, raw display of horror.
"Your father knew she was Arthur Senior’s granddaughter," Sarah confirmed. "He killed her so she couldn't claim the Swiss trust."
Vincent dropped his head into his free hand, letting out a heavy, agonizing sigh that shook his entire shoulders.
The realization that his father had manipulated him into murdering his own flesh and blood cut deeper than any prison sentence.
"I killed my own cousin..." Vincent whispered, his voice trembling with profound, irredeemable guilt.
"You didn't know, Vincent," Sarah said, her tone unexpectedly gentle despite the dark history between them.
"Your father used you just like Richard Vance used Victoria. But right now, Liam needs protection from Dominick."
Vincent snapped his head back up, his eyes burning with a sudden, ferocious wave of protective fury.
"Dominick doesn't play by courtroom rules, Sarah," Vincent warned, his voice dropping into a raspy, urgent whisper.
"He runs a network of former Eastern European mercenaries out of a meatpacking plant in Brooklyn."
"If he's coming for that trust, he will bring twenty armed men to the Swiss Consulate on Friday morning."
"I know," Sarah replied calmly. "That's why I'm here to ask you for your father's private security codes."
Vincent stared at her through the glass, a faint, dangerous smirk slowly forming on his lips.
"My father kept an armory inside the basement of our old townhouse on East 71st Street," Vincent revealed.
"Full tactical gear, untraceable weapons, and specialized surveillance equipment."
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"The access code to the vault door is the date of my sister's death," Vincent added, his eyes locked on hers.
"Take whatever you need, Sarah... and send my uncle Dominick straight to hell."
