Chapter 13
Julian was marched down the jet bridge in handcuffs while news crews from Spanish television networks captured his arrest.
Chloe walked past me without making eye contact, her head bowed in shame as she hurried toward the immigration hall alone.
I walked through the private crew customs lane, stepping out into the bright Spanish sunshine where a black luxury sedan was waiting.
David Brenner stepped out of the rear seat, holding a cold glass of fresh orange juice and a thick leather folder.
“Welcome to Madrid, Elena,” David smiled, handing me the glass.
“The Spanish magistrate has already denied his bail request due to flight risk.”
“His offshore accounts in Zurich were seized twenty minutes ago by Swiss financial regulators.”
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I took a sip of the sweet juice, looking up at the clear blue Spanish sky with an overwhelming sense of lightness and peace.
“Let's go to the hotel, David,” I said with a soft smile. “I have a ten-hour layover, and I plan on sleeping like a queen.”
