Chapter 18
In a maximum-security federal prison upstate, Richard sat on the edge of his narrow metal cot staring at the bleak concrete wall. The luxury penthouses, designer suits, and fleeting moments of arrogance felt like a distant, impossible dream.
He picked up a pencil, attempting to write a letter of appeal to his former legal team, but his hand shook uncontrollably against the rough institutional paper. There were no appeals left, no hidden accounts to rescue him, and no loyal partners to bail him out.
May you like
He had traded a golden foundation for a hollow illusion, and now he was paying for it with every ticking second behind iron bars. The bitter cold of the cell window reminded him of the warmth he had so carelessly discarded.
A correctional officer knocked sharply on the heavy steel door. "Lights out, Sterling. Move it."
