Chapter 11 - The Mistress Speaks
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While Gabriel rotted in a jail cell, Samantha Drake was desperately trying to save her own skin.
Despite her immunity deal regarding the attempted murder charge, the District Attorney was still pursuing severe penalties against Samantha for her role in the wire fraud and receiving stolen property. She was under house arrest, wearing an ankle monitor, entirely stripped of the glamorous life she had built on stolen money.
Clara received a surprising phone call from the DA’s office requesting her presence at a deposition. Samantha wanted to make a statement directly to Clara.
Clara sat in the sterile conference room, flanked by Eleanor. The heavy wooden doors opened, and Samantha walked in, escorted by her public defender.
The mistress looked horrific. Her designer clothes were gone, replaced by a cheap, wrinkled blouse. Her hair was unwashed, and the arrogant, triumphant smirk she had worn in the divorce court was entirely erased, replaced by exhausted desperation.
Samantha took a seat across the table, unable to meet Clara’s cold, unwavering gaze.
“Why did you ask me to come here, Samantha?” Clara asked, her voice devoid of any emotion.
Samantha swallowed hard, trembling slightly. “I wanted to apologize, Clara. I wanted to look you in the eye and tell you I didn't know how far Gabriel was willing to go. I just wanted the money. I didn't want anyone to die.”
“You bought the pills, Samantha,” Clara corrected smoothly. “You complained on tape that the poison wasn't working fast enough. Don't sit here and pretend you have a conscience now that you're facing prison time.”
“He manipulated me!” Samantha cried, tears spilling down her cheeks. “He told me you were crazy! He said you were trying to ruin him!”
“And what did he tell you about Violet?” Clara pressed, leaning forward. “Did he manipulate you into spending the inheritance of a six-year-old girl?”
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Samantha looked down at the table, sobbing quietly. She had no defense. She was a selfish, greedy woman who had aligned herself with a monster, and now she was paying the ultimate price.
“Enjoy your house arrest, Samantha,” Clara said, standing up and grabbing her purse. “I hear it gets very lonely.”
