Chapter 12
“Elena... please,” Julian whispered, his voice cracking into a pathetic plea as tears overflowed his bloodshot eyes.
“Don't let them arrest me. We can start over. I’ll give you everything. Just tell them it was a misunderstanding.”
I looked at my husband of ten years—the man who had kissed my forehead at home before boarding a flight with his mistress.
I reached out, gently pulling the custom leather travel case from his shaking hand—the anniversary gift I had bought him.
“This case belongs to me, Julian,” I said softly, my voice completely devoid of hatred or anger.
“Just like the house, the company, the money, and the life you tried to steal.”
May you like
The two Interpol agents stepped forward, grabbing Julian by his arms and placing him in heavy steel wrist restraints.
“Julian Mercer,” the lead agent announced in clear English. “You are being detained under an international warrant for financial fraud and forgery.”
