Chapter 9 - The Mistress Flees The Sinking Ship
The echo of David’s broken, hysterical weeping filled the bare eighteen-thousand-square-foot mansion like a funeral dirge.
He lay curled on his side on the cold oak floorboards, his expensive linen shirt stained with his own tears and nasal discharge.
His knees were pulled up toward his chest, his handcuffed wrists straining against the black steel chain that bound him.
"You let her die alone..." David choked out between violent, body-racking sobs.
"You buried my daughter... and you didn't even tell me..."
"I didn't let her die alone, David," I said, standing over him like an unyielding marble monument.
"I was there."
"I held her hand until the monitor flatlined."
"I sang her favorite lullaby while the nurses disconnected the ventilators."
"You were the one who was not there."
"You were drinking vintage champagne on a sundeck, boasting about your executive discipline to a woman you met three months ago."
Julianne was backing away toward the front door, her hands shaking so violently she could barely turn the brass handle.
"Let me out of here," Julianne whimpered to the state troopers, her face pale as a ghost, stripped of all her curated glamour.
"Please, officer, I need to leave."
"I don't want to be near this man."
"He's sick! He's a psychopath!"
Marcus Sterling turned his head toward the young woman, his sharp gray eyes locking onto her trembling frame.
"You aren't going anywhere just yet, Miss Vance," Marcus said coldly, using the surname with deliberate, mocking irony.
Julianne froze, her jaw dropping in sheer panic.
"My name is not Vance! I am Julianne Miller!" she shrieked.
"I am not married to him!"
Marcus stepped toward her, pulling a secondary document from his portfolio.
"According to the manifest filed with the Federal Aviation Administration and the Bahamas Port Authority, you traveled as Mrs. David Vance."
"Furthermore, Mr. Vance transferred two hundred and fifty thousand dollars into an LLC registered in your name three days before your departure."
"That transfer originated from the employee pension escrow account of Apex Capital Partners."
Julianne’s eyes widened in horror, her hand flying to her throat as if she were choking on her own breath.
"What?!" she screamed, spinning around to glare at David with pure, unadulterated hatred.
"You told me that was a signing bonus for my wellness consulting contract!"
"You told me you set up that company to protect my personal brand!"
David didn't even look up at her; his face remained pressed against the floor, his entire reality consumed by the image of a four-foot white casket.
"You are an active participant in an interstate money laundering conspiracy, Miss Miller," Marcus informed her with icy precision.
"Unless you provide a full, sworn deposition detailing every conversation, every purchase, and every financial instruction Mr. Vance gave you over the last fourteen days."
"I will tell you everything!" Julianne burst out immediately, not hesitating for a single second to throw David to the wolves.
"I have all our text messages saved on my cloud!"
"He told me he was moving thirty million dollars to an offshore account in the Caymans so his wife couldn't touch it during a divorce!"
"He told me he hated his family! He said his daughter was weak and that his wife was an anchor!"
"He laughed about turning his phone off! He said, 'Let the domestic peasant drown in her own tears for two weeks'!"
"He said that, officer! Those were his exact words!"
David’s sobs hitched in his throat, his head snapping up from the floor, his red, swollen eyes fixing on the woman he had abandoned his daughter for.
"Julianne..." David croaked, his voice shredded and hollow.
"I gave you everything... I bought you that jewelry... I paid your rent..."
"You stole that money from your dying child!" Julianne screamed back at him, her voice filled with absolute disgust.
"You are disgusting!"
"I never loved you, David! You're an arrogant, pathetic old man who paid me to stroke your ego!"
"I hope you rot in federal prison for the rest of your miserable life!"
Marcus nodded to the secondary state trooper waiting by the door.
"Escort Miss Miller to the cruiser outside and confiscate her electronic devices," Marcus ordered.
"Take her down to the Dirksen Federal Building for formal processing."
The trooper took Julianne by the elbow, leading her out through the massive double doors into the cold, pouring rain.
She didn't look back at David once.
She didn't look at the luxury bags left on the front porch.
She scurried into the back of the police cruiser like a rat fleeing a burning vessel, eager to trade every secret David possessed for immunity.
The heavy oak doors clicked shut once more, leaving David alone in the vast, empty room with Marcus, the lead trooper, and me.
David lay there on the bare wood, completely stripped of his wealth, his prestige, his mistress, and his child.
He was nothing more than a ruined man in handcuffs, lying in the ruins of the castle he had built on lies.
"Maya..." David whispered, his voice trembling so violently his teeth clicked together.
"Please... just let me see her grave."
"Take me to her."
"I need to say goodbye to my baby."
"I need to ask her to forgive me."
I looked down at him, feeling the final, heavy weight of the last fourteen days settle into absolute, permanent closure.
"You will never see her grave, David," I said softly.
David looked up at me, his eyes wide with a fresh, unimaginable wave of terror.
"What... what do you mean?" he gasped.
"I had Lily buried under my family's private estate plot under her legal birth certificate name, Lily Montgomery."
"Her grave is located on private, restricted cemetery grounds with a permanent judicial protective order."
"Your name was removed from her death certificate under an emergency petition for parental abandonment resulting in constructive neglect."
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"As far as the law is concerned, David Vance never had a daughter."
"And you will never know where she is buried."
