Chapter 4 - THE MISTRESS'S FALL
Vanessa Cross lived in a glass-fronted high-rise in the Midtown district—an apartment paid for entirely through 'consulting fees' drawn from Julian’s fraudulent Cayman account.
When Rachel, two police officers, and I arrived at her door at 1:00 PM, we could hear loud music pounding from inside.
An officer knocked heavily on the wooden frame. "Police Department. Open the door."
The music died. A few seconds later, the door pulled open.
Vanessa stood there wearing a silk robe, holding a glass of iced tea. Her eyes widened when she saw the uniforms, but when her gaze landed on me standing beside Rachel, her expression turned instantly hostile.
"What is this joke?" Vanessa sneered, crossing her arms. "Elena, did you bring cops to cry about Julian again? He doesn't want you. Get over it."
The lead officer stepped forward, holding out a white sheet of paper. "Vanessa Cross? We have a warrant to search these premises for stolen luxury items, including jewelry, and corporate financial records related to an ongoing fraud investigation."
Vanessa’s confidence vanished in a single breath. "Search my apartment? You can't do that! This is private property!"
"Step aside, ma'am," the second officer instructed, pushing past her into the marble entryway.
I walked into her apartment behind them. The place was littered with designer shopping bags, expensive clothes, and bottles of wine. On her dressing table in the master bedroom sat several velvet jewelry boxes.
I walked straight to the vanity, picked up a dark blue velvet box, and opened it.
Inside rested a platinum Cartier watch my grandmother had given me on my wedding day—a piece that had disappeared from my safe eight months ago. Beside it sat my diamond earrings.
"That's mine!" Vanessa yelled, rushing into the bedroom before an officer blocked her path. "Julian gave those to me!"
"Julian gave you stolen goods, Miss Cross," Rachel stated calmly, taking photos of the jewelry box. "In Texas, receiving stolen property valued at over fifty thousand dollars is a second-degree felony."
Vanessa turned her frantic gaze onto me. "Elena, please! Julian told me you gave him those things to sell! He told me you were broke and losing your salon!"
"Julian lied to you," I said, stepping closer to her, looking down at her trembling hands. "Just like he lied to me. But while I was building a business, you were helping him steal money from my family."
Two officers began opening her desk drawers, pulling out stacks of bank statements, offshore wire receipts, and a black leather notebook labeled V.C. Global Investments.
"We've got the ledgers, Detective," one officer announced, holding up the black notebook.
Vanessa sank onto the edge of her bed, her silk robe slipping from her shoulder, her face pale as snow. "He promised me we were going to Palm Beach," she whispered, her voice breaking into hysterical sobs. "He said the wire was going through on Friday!"
"The wire was frozen this morning," I told her softly. "And Friday is day five."
An officer pulled Vanessa's hands behind her back, clicking heavy steel handcuffs around her wrists.
"Vanessa Cross, you are under arrest for receiving stolen property and grand larceny," the officer read her rights as they led her out into the hallway.
May you like
As she passed me, Vanessa looked up, her eyes wide with fear. "Elena... please... don't do this..."
"You told me hair grows back, Vanessa," I whispered into her ear as the officers pushed her toward the elevator. "So does reputation. Let's see how long yours takes."
