Chapter 6
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While Julian shivered in a damp, moldy motel room, Beatrice was experiencing an entirely different level of absolute devastation. She sat shivering in a sterile, freezing interrogation room at the downtown police precinct. She was still wearing her soaked designer dress and the diamond necklace Julian had bought her using embezzled funds. The heavy steel handcuffs chafed her delicate wrists, leaving raw red marks on her skin.
The heavy metal door swung open, and District Attorney Thomas Sterling walked in, carrying a thick manila folder. He didn't look angry; he looked entirely composed and analytical, which terrified Beatrice even more.
"Ms. Beatrice Lawson," Sterling said, taking a seat across the metal table and opening the folder. "It is going to be a very long night for you."
"I want my lawyer!" Beatrice shrieked, tears ruining her expensive makeup and leaving dark streaks down her pale cheeks. "Julian promised me his legal team would protect me! You can't hold me here! I didn't do anything wrong!"
"Julian's legal team abandoned him the moment the federal indictments dropped three hours ago," Sterling informed her, his voice entirely devoid of sympathy. "He is currently bankrupt, homeless, and facing decades in federal prison. He cannot help you, Beatrice. You are entirely on your own."
Beatrice stared at him, her manic energy completely deflating into sheer, unadulterated panic. "No... no, that's impossible. He's a billionaire! We were going to get married!"
"He is a fraud," Sterling corrected sharply. "And according to this folder, you are his primary accomplice. You signed the lease agreements on the shell corporations used to funnel money out of the Vance firm. You actively participated in the emotional abuse of his wife, Karen. And worst of all, you were present when Julian used trust funds belonging to a minor to purchase luxury goods."
"I didn't know the money was stolen!" Beatrice lied frantically, shaking her handcuffed wrists. "He told me it was from his personal dividends! I was just his girlfriend!"
"The paper trail says otherwise," Sterling said, sliding a printed email across the table. "This is a message from you to Julian, explicitly complaining that the 'dummy accounts' were taking too long to clear for your shopping trip in Paris. That establishes premeditation and active knowledge of the fraud."
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Beatrice looked at the email, the last shred of color draining completely from her face. The reality of her situation finally crashed down upon her.
"You are looking at fifteen to twenty years for federal wire fraud and conspiracy," Sterling stated coldly, closing the folder. "Unless, of course, you decide you want to be extremely helpful to my office by testifying against the man who dragged you into this mess."
