Chapter 7 - In the Wolf's Den
The biting Brooklyn wind chapped her lips the second she stepped onto the sidewalk. The small corner café was practically empty; only a dim, golden glow illuminated the foggy storefront window.
Emma pushed open the glass door, the entry bell chiming sharply. At a back table, wrapped in a worn trench coat and sporting several days of stubble, Julian Vance looked nothing like the arrogant, impeccably dressed VP he used to be. He clutched a mug of black coffee between shaking hands.
"You came," Julian said, nodding at the chair across from him.
Emma didn't sit. She stood rigidly, her hands shoved deep into her coat pockets.
"Talk. And choose your words very carefully."
"Sit down, please. You look like a stranger... though I suppose to you, I am one," he sighed, looking her dead in the eye. "You have the exact same calculating look Victoria gets when she knows she's lost a game of chess."
"Do not compare me to her," Emma hissed, finally perching on the edge of the seat. "You said Richard is making bail."
"His lawyers filed an appeal based on procedural errors. The judge is going to grant bail first thing tomorrow morning. But that isn't the worst part." Julian leaned across the table, lowering his voice. "Richard isn't broke. The mansion, the foreclosures... it was all a theatrical performance for the press and the DA. There's an account in the Cayman Islands under a trust. It holds over forty million dollars."
"And where did that money come from?"
"From you, Emma. From a trust your maternal grandfather left you when you were born, which Richard was the sole executor of until you turned twenty-five. He used your identity to launder the illegal kickbacks from Chicago. If the DA pulls on that thread, the person they'll indict for tax fraud won't be him... it will be you."
Emma felt the roof of the café cave in on her.
May you like
"That's impossible. I never signed a single document for that company."
"He forged your signature two months ago, right before the dinner where you blew everything up. He knew you were going to talk. He had a contingency plan in place to pin it all on you if things went south."
