Chapter 8 - Desperate Measures
Stripped of his office, his keycard confiscated, and escorted off the premises by two armed security guards, Graham was cast out onto the rainy sidewalks of Congress Street.
His world had crumbled in seventy-two hours.
With his personal bank accounts frozen, his corporate standing erased, and his phone blowing up with collection notices, Graham made a desperate, reckless decision. He caught a cab to the South Bay House of Correction.
In the visitor’s booth, divided by thick reinforced plexiglass, Vivian Sterling looked nothing like the glamorous heiress who had sneered at me on the courthouse steps. She wore an orange jumpsuit, her platinum blonde hair unwashed and tangled, her face stripped of makeup, revealing deep lines of stress and malice.
She snatched the telephone receiver off the wall the second Graham sat down.
"Where is my bail money, Graham?!" she shrieked through the receiver. "Why am I still in this cage with drug addicts and murderers?!"
"There is no bail money, Vivian," Graham said, his voice completely flat, deadened by shock. "Elias took the company. Lena owns everything. The board voted me out an hour ago."
Vivian stared at him, her eyes widening in disbelief, then narrowing into pure, venomous rage. "You idiot. You useless, pathetic coward! You let a nineteen-year-old orphan and her dead brother rob you blind?!"
"He didn't rob me, Vivian! You lied to me!" Graham shouted, slamming the receiver against the shelf. "You told me Elias was dead! You told me the trust fund couldn't be traced! You pushed Lena down the stairs! You dragged me into an attempted murder rap!"
"I did it for *us*!" Vivian screamed back, spittle hitting the glass. "You wanted the yachts! You wanted the penthouse! You loved spending his money when it bought you respect, didn't you? You didn't ask questions when the six million landed in our Cayman account!"
Graham took a deep, shuddering breath. He leaned in close to the glass, his expression shifting from panic to cold calculation.
"I'm talking to the District Attorney this afternoon," Graham whispered.
Vivian froze. "What?"
"I’m taking a proffer deal," Graham said, his voice dropping to a sinister hush. "I’m testifying that the boat explosion was orchestrated by you. I’m testifying that you stole the power of attorney. I’m telling them you pushed Lena without my knowledge or consent. In exchange, I get immunity on the assault charge and a suspended sentence for corporate fraud."
Vivian’s face contorted into something monstrous. She slammed both hands against the glass, setting off the vibration sensors on the partition.
"You do that, Graham, and I will burn you to the ground!" she hissed into the receiver. "You think I didn't keep insurance? You think I didn't record every single phone call where you begged me to get rid of Lena's babies so we wouldn't have to pay child support?!"
Graham’s blood turned to ice. "You... you recorded me?"
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"I recorded every word, you fool," Vivian sneered, a terrifying grin spreading across her cracked lips. "And the moment your lawyer walks into the DA’s office, my attorney delivers those audio files to the federal prosecutor. If I go down, Graham, you're spending the next thirty years in a federal penitentiary."
***
