Chapter 5: The Ashes of the Past
By winter, the final judgments had been handed down. The gavel fell with a heavy, satisfying finality. Richard Sterling was found guilty on twenty-two counts of federal fraud, embezzlement, and tax evasion. He was sentenced to fifteen years in a federal penitentiary without the possibility of early parole.
Chloe’s fate was equally grim. Stripped of her immunity when the prosecution realized the depth of her involvement, she had been charged as an accessory. To avoid jail time, she accepted a brutal plea deal: five years of strict probation, hundreds of hours of community service, and a restitution order that would garnish any wages she ever earned until the stolen pension funds were repaid.
On a bleak, snowy afternoon, Julian visited the federal prison for the first and last time.
He sat in the stark, fluorescent-lit visitation room. The glass partition between them was thick, smeared with fingerprints. When Richard was brought out in an orange jumpsuit, he looked ancient. The fire in his eyes had died, replaced by the hollow stare of a broken man.
Richard picked up the receiver. His hand shook. "Did you come to gloat, Julian?" he rasped.
Julian held the phone to his ear. He looked at the man who had taught him that love was a weakness and loyalty was a liability. He felt no anger anymore. Only a profound, quiet emptiness that was quickly being filled by a new life.
"No," Julian said quietly. "I came to say goodbye."
"I am still your father," Richard sneered, a pathetic attempt to reclaim some shred of authority.
"You were a biological necessity, Richard. Nothing more," Julian replied, his voice devoid of malice, which somehow made the words cut deeper. "My mother is traveling through Europe. She's happier than she's been in three decades. The company is thriving. The poison has been cut out."
"You'll end up just like me," Richard spat, pressing his hand against the glass. "Cold. Alone. You don't know how to love."
Julian smiled. It wasn't the cryptic, terrifying smile he had worn on his wedding day. It was warm. It was genuine. "That's where you're wrong. You made me cold to survive you. But I don't need the armor anymore."
Julian hung up the phone. He didn't wait to see Richard escorted back to his cell. He walked out of the prison, stepping into the freezing winter air. In the parking lot, the engine of his car was running. Aria was sitting in the passenger seat, a warm cup of coffee in her hands, a bright, welcoming smile on her face.
Julian got into the car, the heat wrapping around him. He leaned over and kissed her, a deep, grounding kiss that chased away the last lingering shadows of the penitentiary.
May you like
"How did it go?" she asked softly, tracing the line of his jaw.
"It's over," Julian breathed, putting the car in drive. "We're finally free."
