Chapter 15 - The Poisoned Diamond
Dante’s grip on the phone was so tight I thought the plastic casing would splinter. "If you ever look in the direction of my wife and children again, Marcus, I won't send you to prison. I will gut you with my bare hands."
A soft, melodic laugh came through the speaker. "Always so dramatic, Dante. Always the tragic hero. But you're too late. Look at the television screens, brother. Turn on Bloomberg. Turn on CNN."
Dante grabbed the remote, switching on the wall-mounted monitor.
A breaking news banner flashed across the screen in alarming red text:
**BREAKING: FORMER BILLIONAIRE DANTE STERLING INDICTED ON 42 COUNTS OF TREASON, FRAUD, AND MONEY LAUNDERING. WIFE LENA STERLING NAMED AS CO-CONSPIRATOR.**
My heart slammed against my ribs. My photo—an old picture taken at a charity gala three years ago—appeared on the screen next to Dante’s mugshot.
"And here is the crowning jewel," Marcus's voice continued, purring with sadistic delight. "An emergency hearing was held this morning at Manhattan Family Court. Judge Harrison—a very dear friend of our late father—has ruled that due to the severe criminal nature of your fugitive status, Lena’s parental rights have been temporarily suspended pending trial. A warrant for protective custody has been issued for the Sterling twins."
"You bought the judge," Dante snarled.
"Of course I bought him! Fifty million dollars buys a great deal of judicial discretion, Dante," Marcus chuckled. "The NYPD and Child Protective Services have an amber alert out for Mateo and Clara. If anyone spots Lena with those babies, she will be tackled by federal agents and charged with felony kidnapping. You have twelve hours to surrender yourself at the Manhattan Federal Detention Center. If you don't... my private contractors will find Lena. And I promise you, tragic accidents happen in foster care all the time."
The line went dead.
A suffocating silence descended upon the room.
I looked at the crib. Mateo was clutching a corner of his blanket; Clara was sleeping peacefully, her little chest rising and falling.
*They want to take my babies.*
The legal system of the most powerful city in the world had just labeled me a fugitive kidnapper. The state was coming to rip my four-month-old infants from my arms and hand them to a monster.
I walked over to Dante. I didn't cry. The time for tears had burned away in the fire at Devil's Creek.
"We don't run anymore," I said, my voice dead, flat, and absolute.
Dante looked up at me, startled by the cold steel in my eyes. "Lena..."
"You spent five years teaching me how the sharks operate in this city, Dante," I said, gripping his leather jacket. "You told me that in Manhattan, power isn't given. It is stolen, bled for, and taken by force. We are not hiding in this basement while your brother steals our children."
"What are you saying?"
May you like
"I'm saying you put on your suit," I whispered, the fire in my blood raging. "And you walk into that boardroom and take back what is ours."
***
