Chapter 12 - The Interrogation In Chains
The basement holding room beneath the Vance estate was sterile, brightly lit by fluorescent tubes, and soundproofed with reinforced concrete.
Victoria sat handcuffed to a heavy steel table, her glamorous facade completely annihilated by the harsh reality of her confinement.
Her once-immaculate platinum waves hung in greasy, matted strands around her hollow cheeks.
The bold red lipstick she had worn with such venomous pride was smeared across her chin, mixed with dried tears and sweat.
The crimson designer gown was wrinkled, dusty, and stripped of its former high-fashion elegance.
She glared at the two armed Chicago police officers stationed by the heavy metal door, her chest heaving with frantic breaths.
"You have no right to hold me like an animal in my own basement!" Victoria shrieked, her voice raspy and shrill.
"My legal team will have every single badge stripped from your uniforms by sunrise!" she spat, rattling the steel chains against the tabletop.
The heavy metal door clicked open, and the cold air of the corridor swept into the claustrophobic room.
Marcus entered first, his towering frame casting a long, imposing shadow across the concrete floor.
Behind him walked Julian, silent and resolute, followed closely by Detective Miller holding an electronic tablet.
Elena entered last, wrapped securely in her dark woolen blanket, standing tall beside her uncle despite her exhaustion.
Victoria’s eyes darted between them, her initial arrogance flickering with a momentary flash of desperate cunning.
"Marcus!" Victoria cried out, forcing fresh tears to well in her icy blue eyes as she leaned forward against the restraints.
"Thank God you came down here! These barbarians won't let me call our attorney!" she pleaded, attempting to soften her voice.
"Marcus, you know me! You know I lost my temper because she was disrespecting me all night!" she wept shamelessly.
"I didn't mean for her to fall, baby! It was an argument that went out of control!" she whimpered, reaching out her cuffed hands.
Marcus did not blink, nor did he break his measured stride until he stood two inches from the steel table.
He pulled a stainless steel chair back, turned it around, and sat down directly across from the woman he had married.
"Shut your mouth, Victoria," Marcus said, his tone entirely devoid of warmth, pity, or hesitation.
Victoria froze mid-sob, the fake tears clinging to her cheeks as she realized her theatrical manipulation held zero power over him.
"Marcus, please..." she whispered, her voice dropping into a desperate purr.
Detective Miller stepped forward and slammed the illuminated tablet down onto the steel surface between them.
On the screen was the high-resolution wire transfer log showing the two-million-dollar deposit from Sterling Maritime Logistics.
Beside it was the decrypted transcript of her phone calls with Arthur Sterling, logged and verified by federal banking timestamps.
Victoria’s gaze dropped to the glowing screen, and every single drop of blood drained from her face until she resembled a corpse.
Her mouth fell open in silent horror, her trembling hands shaking the steel links against the table with a frantic metallic rattle.
"Did you really believe Thomas wouldn't find your encrypted partition?" Julian asked coldly from behind Marcus’s shoulder.
"You think you’re a mastermind, Victoria, but you’re nothing more than a cheap, disposable pawn," Julian sneered.
"Two million dollars," Marcus whispered, leaning forward until his face was inches from hers.
"That was the price you put on my daughter’s life," Marcus said, his voice deadly quiet.
"Two million dollars to throw a twenty-three-year-old girl off a stone terrace to crack her skull open on concrete," Marcus added.
"No... Marcus... that’s not what that money was for..." Victoria stammered, her voice cracking as panic swallowed her whole.
"Arthur approached me! He said you were going to bankrupt the company! He said Elena was incompetent!" she babbled frantically.
Elena stepped forward, dropping the edge of her blanket slightly to reveal the silver crown she held in her hands.
"You called me a little girl on the balcony, Victoria," Elena said, her voice clear, steady, and remarkably fearless.
"You told me the party wasn't about me right before you shoved me into the dark," Elena continued, staring directly into the woman's eyes.
"You took two million dollars to murder me so you could sign my mother’s legacy over to Arthur Sterling," Elena stated.
Victoria shrank back against the hard plastic of the chair, looking at Elena as if the young woman were an avenging ghost.
"Elena, you don't understand the pressure I was under!" Victoria screamed, her composure entirely shattering into hysterical madness.
"Sterling threatened to ruin me! He said if I didn't help him secure the voting block, he would leak private photos and ruin my life!" she cried.
"Save your lies for the federal grand jury, Victoria," Detective Miller interrupted firmly, tapping the recording button on her radio.
"Arthur Sterling didn't push a girl off a balcony; you did that with your own two hands," Miller said.
"And the moment you pushed her, you upgraded your charge to attempted premeditated capital murder," Miller added.
Marcus stood up slowly, looking down at his wife with pure, unadulterated contempt.
"The divorce papers will be served to you at Cook County Jail within the hour," Marcus said, turning his back on her.
"Every single asset, vehicle, piece of jewelry, and bank account in your name has been frozen under emergency corporate protective order," Marcus stated.
"You will leave my life with absolutely nothing except an orange jumpsuit and a life sentence," Marcus concluded.
Victoria let out an unearthly shriek of pure rage and terror, lunging forward until the handcuffs jerked her violently backward against the table.
"Marcus! You can't do this to me! I made you! You’re nothing without me!" she screamed as the guards seized her shoulders.
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Marcus did not look back as he walked through the heavy metal door, followed by Julian, Elena, and Detective Miller.
Behind them, Victoria’s frantic, desperate wails bounced off the cold concrete walls, marking the complete extinction of her glamorous reign.
