Chapter 4
The sterile, fluorescent lights of the city’s Central Police precinct hummed loudly.
Outside the interrogation room, chaos reigned. Reporters had barricaded the precinct steps, demanding answers. The stock of Valeon Financial Group had frozen trading after the explosive revelations at the gala.
Inside the small, gray room, the air was suffocatingly tense.
Marcus Vance sat handcuffed to the heavy steel table. His expensive tuxedo was wrinkled, his tie missing. The arrogant smirk was entirely gone, replaced by the desperate, cornered look of a ruined man.
Across from him sat Ethan Cole.
Ethan leaned back in a metal folding chair, perfectly composed, watching his enemy fall apart.
“You have no proof that holds up in court,” Marcus spat, his voice trembling. “A twenty-four-year-old ledger? An old detective with dementia? My lawyers will tear that apart in front of a jury. I’ll be out on bail by morning, Cole.”
Ethan didn’t blink. “Willis kept the original wire transfer receipts, Marcus. He kept them as insurance, just in case you ever decided to tie up loose ends. The DA is reviewing them right now.”
Marcus sneered, straining against the handcuffs. “You think this makes you a hero? You’re sitting in the big chair because of what I did! If I hadn’t cleared that land, Arthur Valeon would have never built the tower. You would have never been CEO!”
“You tried to murder my mother for a promotion,” Ethan said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
“She was supposed to die in that fire!” Marcus yelled, losing control. “She was collateral damage! You both were! How did she even survive? The roof collapsed directly on her bedroom!”
The heavy metal door of the interrogation room clicked and swung open.
Martha stood in the doorway.
She had taken off the elegant silk gloves. Her hands, covered in thick, twisted burn scars, were fully visible. She walked into the room with slow, deliberate steps, her posture unbroken.
Marcus stared at her, his breathing ragged.
“I survived, Mr. Vance,” Martha said quietly, looking down at the man who had ruined her life, “because a mother’s love is stronger than your greed. When the ceiling fell, I caught the burning beams with my bare hands so my son could crawl out the window.”
Marcus swallowed hard, unable to look away from the horrific scars on her skin.
“You took twenty-four years from us,” Martha continued, her voice echoing in the small room. “You made me homeless. You made my son an orphan. But you did not break us. Look at him now.”
She placed a scarred hand on Ethan’s shoulder. Ethan reached up and gently held it.
“He built an empire,” Martha said proudly. “And you? You are just a pathetic, greedy man chained to a desk.”
Marcus looked away, defeated. The fight drained completely from his body.
Ethan stood up, adjusting his suit jacket.
“The DA is charging you with arson, corporate fraud, and attempted murder,” Ethan said coldly. “You will never see the outside of a prison cell again.”
Ethan and Martha turned and walked out of the interrogation room, leaving Marcus in the cold, humming silence of the precinct.
As they stepped out into the hallway, Elias Thorne was waiting, a rare smile on his rugged face.
“The board just held an emergency vote, Ethan,” Elias said, holding up his phone. “Unanimous. They want you back immediately. And they’re terrified of what you’re going to do next.”
May you like
Ethan looked at his mother. She smiled back, her eyes shining with tears of relief.
“Let them be terrified,” Ethan said. “We have a company to rebuild.”
