Chapter 13 - The Meeting with the Devil
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The next morning, I requested an emergency visitation at the maximum-security correctional facility where Victoria was being held.
I sat in the sterile, brightly lit visitor’s room, staring through the thick plexiglass partition.
Victoria was escorted out by two guards. She wore a standard orange jumpsuit, her gray hair pulled into a severe braid. She had lost her aristocratic polish, but her eyes remained sharp and incredibly arrogant.
She picked up the heavy black phone on her side of the glass.
"I assumed you would come crawling eventually, Claire," Victoria sneered, leaning back in her plastic chair. "Have you come to beg for a financial settlement? My lawyers are already preparing the paperwork to destroy your character in court."
I picked up the phone, staring directly into her dark, empty eyes.
"I went to Maine, Victoria," I said.
The smug expression vanished from her face instantly. She sat up straight, the plastic chair screeching against the floor.
"What did you say?" she hissed.
"Behind the third bookshelf. Digital code 0-8-1-4," I recited flawlessly. "I have the bearer bonds. I have the diamonds. And most importantly, I have the ledgers detailing the fifty million dollars you laundered for the Sokolov syndicate."
Victoria’s hands began to shake. The absolute control she had wielded her entire life completely fractured. For the first time since I had known her, the great Victoria Whitmore looked utterly terrified.
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"You stupid girl," Victoria choked out, pressing her face close to the glass. "Do you have any idea what you've done? The Sokolovs will slaughter you and Emma just for looking at those books!"
"They already called me," I smiled, a cold, terrifying expression that mirrored the one she had given me at the funeral. "They are very eager to get their money back."
