Chapter 13 - Behind Iron Bars and the Realization of Ruin
Inside the maximum-security federal penitentiary in Colorado, the harsh fluorescent lights buzzed incessantly above the concrete corridors.
Isaac Vance sat on the edge of his steel cot in a tiny eight-by-ten foot cell. His hands were calloused from hard labor, his once-pristine skin pale and marked with bruises from prison fights he had repeatedly lost.
A guard tapped on the steel bars with a wooden baton. “Vance. You have a visitor. Ten minutes.”
Isaac’s heart leaped into his throat. Flora? Had she finally come to forgive him? Had his letters begging for a second chance worked?
He was handcuffed, shackled at the ankles, and led down the sterile hallway to the visitation room.
Sitting behind the thick glass partition was not Flora.
It was Julian Sterling.
Isaac slowly picked up the heavy plastic phone receiver, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and desperate hope. “Julian? Did Flora send you? Is she dropping the civil restitution lawsuits? Will she help get me transferred to a minimum-security camp?”
Julian picked up his receiver, looking at Isaac with the cold, impassive gaze of an apex predator.
“Flora didn't send me, Isaac,” Julian said calmly. “I came on my own accord to deliver the final certified closing report.”
“What closing report?” Isaac asked, a cold knot tightening in his stomach.
“As of yesterday at 5:00 PM, Vance Construction Group has been completely dissolved,” Julian explained smoothly. “All remaining subsidiary assets, real estate holdings, and development rights have been liquidated and permanently integrated into the Sterling Global Infrastructure Fund.”
Isaac banged his shackled fists against the counter. “That was my grandfather’s company! That was my birthright!”
“Your birthright was squandered the second you thought you could abuse a Sterling without consequence,” Julian replied. “Furthermore, your old family estate—the manor where you hosted your little birthday punishment—has been completely demolished.”
Isaac gasped, tears spilling from his eyes. “Demolished?!”
“Yes,” Julian said with a faint, satisfied smile. “Flora donated the entire thirty-acre estate to the City Children’s Foundation. They are currently building a state-of-the-art rehabilitation center for abused women and children on the very spot where your ballroom once stood.”
Isaac slumped forward against the glass, sobbing uncontrollably, his forehead pressing against the cold pane. “She erased me... she completely erased my entire life...”
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“No, Isaac,” Julian said, setting the receiver down on the cradle. “She didn't erase you. She simply corrected a mistake.”
Julian stood up, buttoned his tailored jacket, and walked out of the visitation room, leaving Isaac Vance screaming and thrashing against his chains as the guards dragged him back into the endless darkness of his cell.
