Chapter 12 - The Divorce Deposition of the Sinner
Three months after the gala, the final divorce deposition was held in the high-rise conference room of my legal team in downtown Boston.
Julian sat at the far end of the long mahogany table, wearing a faded blue prison jumpsuit, his hands secured by waist chains. He looked ten years older, his face gaunt, his arrogance completely eradicated.
My attorney, Sarah Jenkins, slid the final divorce settlement across the table.
Under the terms of the decree:
Julian Vance received zero dollars in spousal support.
He permanently surrendered all claims to the Beacon Hill brownstone, Northstar Holdings, and Aurelia Systems.
He signed a formal restitution agreement, pledging every dollar of his future earned wages toward repaying the fourteen million dollars he had stolen.
"Sign here, Julian," Sarah said, handing him a simple plastic pen.
Julian’s hand trembled violently as he pressed the pen to the paper. He looked up at me, his eyes filled with a desperate, pathetic sorrow.
"Audrey..." he whispered, his voice cracking. "I'm sorry. I swear to God, I'm sorry for everything I did."
I looked at the man I had once loved, feeling no anger, no hatred—only the deep, clean peace of a woman who had reclaimed her life.
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"I know you're sorry, Julian," I said softly. "You're sorry you got caught."
He signed his name on the final line, lowered his head onto the table, and wept silently as the federal marshals led him away.
