Chapter 7 - THE INTERROGATION OF VICTORIA
The interrogation room at the Metropolitan Detention Center was cold, sterile, and lit by a single buzzing strip of fluorescent light. Victoria sat at the steel table, her emerald gown replaced by a coarse orange jumpsuit, her blonde hair matted and unwashed. Her manicured nails scraped nervously against the metal surface as the heavy door unlocked to reveal Arthur and Agent Miller.
Victoria looked up, a flash of manipulative hope igniting in her bloodshot eyes as she saw her husband step into the room. "Arthur! Thank God you came! You have to tell these savages that this is all a terrible misunderstanding!"
Arthur sat down across from her, resting his hands calmly on the table while staring at her with total detachment. "Save your breath, Victoria. I brought the toxicology reports from my bloodwork."
Victoria's lips trembled, the fake warmth vanishing from her face to reveal the sinister coldness underneath. "You think you're so smart, Arthur. You think you built an empire that no one could touch."
"Who gave you the synthetic toxin, Victoria?" Agent Miller demanded, leaning over the table with a manila folder. "Give us the name of your handler, and the prosecutor might take the death penalty off the table."
Victoria let out a bitter, mocking laugh that echoed off the bare concrete walls. "You think I'm afraid of prison? If I tell you who is behind this, I won't survive my first night in a cell!"
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Arthur leaned forward, his voice dropping into a razor-sharp tone that silenced her laughter instantly. "You already won't survive, Victoria, because the man on that yacht in Sag Harbor just abandoned you to save himself."
Victoria's face turned white as chalk as Arthur slid a photograph across the table showing FBI agents arresting her secret lover on the docks of Long Island.
