Chapter 9 - THE TASTE OF RETRIBUTION
While peace settled over Newport, fifty miles north in the federal detention facility in Boston, the atmosphere was far less serene.
Brooke Harrington sat in a cold, cinderblock interrogation room. Her designer clothes had been replaced by a coarse orange jumpsuit. Her hair hung limp around her shoulders, and her makeup was smeared across her pale face.
The heavy steel door swung open, and her court-appointed attorney walked in, setting down a thick stack of legal briefs.
"Where is my private counsel?" Brooke demanded, slamming her cuffed hands against the metal table. "Where is the Harrington family trust attorney?"
"The Harrington family trust has been frozen by the Department of Justice," the lawyer said bluntly, pulling out a chair. "Your father resigned from the board an hour ago and issued a public statement condemning your actions. Julian just took a plea deal—twenty-five years in federal prison for racketeering, arms trafficking, and attempted murder."
Brooke gasped, her chest heaving. "Julian took a deal? He blamed me?!"
"He gave the feds every text message, every bank routing code, and the recordings of you planning to forge Catherine Mercer’s signature," the attorney replied without sympathy. "The US Attorney is offering you fifteen years if you plead guilty to wire fraud and grand larceny. If you go to trial, you’re looking at forty."
Brooke slumped back in the metal chair, staring at the ceiling in utter disbelief.
She had been less than forty-eight hours away from being the mistress of the most powerful estate on the East Coast. She was supposed to be wearing a half-million-dollar custom Vera Wang gown, draped in heirloom diamonds, sipping vintage champagne while the elite of high society bowed to her.
Now, her entire future was a steel bunk and a barred window.
"Dominic Mercer orchestrated all of this," Brooke whispered, venom lacing every word. "He knew from the very beginning."
"Mr. Mercer didn't break the law," her attorney said, packing his files back into his briefcase. "You and your brother did. He just stepped out of the way and let you walk straight into the trap you dug for his family."
The guard knocked on the door, signaling that time was up.
May you like
As Brooke was hauled back down the cold concrete corridor, the finality of her defeat settled in her chest like lead. She had played the game against a king, and she had lost everything.
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