Chapter 5: Cold Iron and Silk
The county holding cell was a harsh, damp room that smelled of bleach and regret—a stark contrast to the sprawling, sunlit solariums Eleanor was accustomed to. Julian sat on the visitor's side of the reinforced, smudge-covered glass, picking up the heavy black receiver.
Eleanor sat on the other side, wearing a scratchy orange jumpsuit over her expensive silk blouse. Her pristine makeup was entirely washed away, revealing the deep, anxious lines of her true age.
"Julian, darling, you have to talk to the judge. Get me out of this filthy place," Eleanor pleaded, pressing her manicured hand against the glass. "We are family! You owe me for raising you!"
Julian stared at her, his expression utterly devoid of warmth. "You tried to murder my wife and my unborn child to cover up stealing millions of dollars," he said, his voice dropping to a terrifying deadpan. "The police have the ledger, Eleanor. The forensic accountants are already tearing through the offshore accounts. For the fraud, the embezzlement, and the attempted murder... you are going to spend the remainder of your natural life in a concrete cage."
May you like
"Julian, please—"
"I don't owe you anything," he interrupted smoothly. He placed the receiver back on the cradle, cutting off her hysterical sobbing, and walked away without looking back.
