Chapter 10 - Behind the Ballistic Partition-10
Ten minutes later, I walked into the primary visitation booth to face Bruce one final time before his transfer to a maximum-security federal correctional facility.
The room was divided by a thick, seamless pane of reinforced ballistic glass. Bruce sat on the cold metal stool on the other side, his orange jumpsuit wrinkled, his face heavily scarred from the concussive thermal burns he had suffered during the short-circuit blast. He lifted the plastic intercom phone with a heavy, trembling hand as I sat down and picked up my receiver.
"You look remarkably well, Claire," Bruce whispered through the line, his voice a raspy, hollow shadow of the confident, charming baritone he had once used to woo me. "I suppose you're here to celebrate your ultimate victory over my life."
"I'm not here to celebrate anything, Bruce," I said, my voice completely flat, carrying the clinical detachment of a lead auditor closing an empty file. "I'm here to deliver the final court orders. The divorce decree was signed by Magistrate Harris this morning. Your corporate titles have been permanently stripped, your personal real estate portfolio has been liquidated to pay federal restitution, and your access to Lily has been permanently terminated by order of the family court."
Bruce let out a sharp, bitter bark of laughter that degenerated into a dry, ragged cough. He pressed his scarred face close against the ballistic glass, his eyes flashing with a sudden, desperate malice.
"You think you've won, Claire?" he whispered, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the plastic receiver. "You think you can just take our daughter, take your federal promotion, and go back to your quiet little life? The Noraline network... it wasn't just my project. The cartel behind those Cypriot holding firms... they don't care about federal court verdicts. They care about their lost capital. Eighty-five million dollars of their liquid reserves is frozen because of your short-circuit trick!"
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He leaned closer, his breath fogging the glass between us.
"They know your name, Claire. They know where you live, where you work, and where Lily goes to school. You might have locked me in this steel cage, darling, but you've locked yourself and our daughter in a prison of fear for the rest of your days. Every time a car slows down outside your house... you’ll know they're coming to collect the debt."
