Chapter 10 - Begging in the Ashes
Six months passed.
The legal machinery moved with brutal, unstoppable precision. Adrian Vale never made it to a jury trial.
Faced with overwhelming physical evidence, the testimony of his former mistress, and forensic accounting that left no room for denial, his defense team negotiated an open guilty plea. He was sentenced to sixteen years in state prison for aggravated battery with a deadly weapon, with an additional eight years running concurrently for federal securities fraud.
Vanessa Jenkins received a five-year sentence for conspiracy to commit grand larceny, her plea deal sparing her maximum time in exchange for full restitution of the funds she had hidden in offshore accounts.
On a crisp autumn afternoon, I stood on the terrace of the Sterling Estate in Connecticut, watching the golden leaves drift across the manicured lawn.
Julian Thorne walked out through the French doors, carrying a single leather folder.
“The bankruptcy auction concluded this morning, Miss Sterling,” Julian said, handing me the final settlement decree. “Vale Enterprises has been completely absorbed into Sterling Technology Systems. All former employees have had their pensions reinstated, the intellectual property has been secured, and the company has been officially delisted from the stock exchange.”
“And Adrian?” I asked quietly.
“He arrived at the state penitentiary yesterday afternoon,” Julian said. “His final appeal for asset retention was dismissed by the appellate court. He submitted this through his prison ombudsman last night.”
Julian held out a sealed, handwritten envelope. The handwriting on the front was shaky, desperate: *To Clara.*
I looked at the envelope for a long moment.
Inside that paper was undoubtedly pages of groveling apologies, excuses, declarations of love, and desperate pleas for me to soften my father’s grip on his existence. He would talk about our early days, the dreams we had shared, the promises we made.
I didn't open it.
I walked over to the stone fireplace on the terrace, where a small fire was crackling against the autumn chill. I dropped the envelope directly onto the glowing embers.
The paper curled, blackened, and burst into bright orange flames, turning to gray ash within seconds.
“Some words don't deserve to be read,” I said.
May you like
Julian nodded respectfully. “Your father has requested your presence in the library, Miss Sterling. The board of Sterling Global has gathered. They are waiting for their new Co-Chairperson.”
***
