Chapter 3: The Confession of a Traitor
The interrogation room was cold, lit by the harsh hum of fluorescent lights. Ethan sat, handcuffed to the metal table, his bespoke Italian suit now wrinkled and stained with the stress of the arrest. Across from him, a federal agent placed a thick file on the table.
"We have the audio, Ethan," the agent said. "We have the video of the basement meetings with your offshore partners. And, most importantly, we have the recording from three years ago. The one where you discuss your father-in-law’s 'brake failure' with your head of security."
Ethan’s mouth went dry. "That’s hearsay. That’s—that’s a deepfake! She framed me!"
"Is that so?" The agent opened the file. "Because your mistress, Chloe, has been talking. She’s looking at a plea deal. She told us everything about the money laundering, the threats, and the murder."
May you like
Ethan’s heart hammered against his ribs. The betrayal burned worse than the handcuffs. He had built his kingdom on lies, and now, the foundation had crumbled. He tried to think of a way out, a loophole, but he knew the game was over. Elena hadn't just trapped him; she had cornered him. Every path he tried to take led back to a cell.
Elena walked past the observation window. She paused, looking through the one-way glass. Ethan saw her. For a moment, their eyes locked. She didn't look angry. She looked satisfied. She placed a hand over her pregnant belly, whispered something to herself, and walked away toward the exit of the precinct, finally free.
