Chapter 9 - Facing the Dragon
Three weeks before the trial was set to begin, Julian received an official notice from the county correctional facility. Beatrice had refused to speak to her defense attorneys, her crisis managers, or her remaining social contacts. She had issued only one demand: she would only sign the asset transfer paperwork if she could see Julian and me face-to-face in the visitation room.
Julian turned to me in the car as we pulled into the grey, concrete parking lot of the high-security facility. “You don't have to go in there with me, Elena. You’ve endured enough of her venom.”
I unbuckled my seatbelt and turned to look at him firmly. “I started this fight to protect our son, Julian. I’m going to stand by your side while we finish it.”
Inside the glass-partitioned visitation room, the door on the inmate side clicked open. Two guards escorted Beatrice to the steel chair across from us.
The transformation in her appearance was shocking. The manicured blonde hair was gone, replaced by thin, silver strands pinned back carelessly. Her tailored Chanel suit had been replaced by a coarse, orange jumpsuit, and the sparkling diamond necklace that had once served as her armor was nowhere to be found.
Yet, as she sat down and picked up the heavy plastic telephone, her eyes still burned with that familiar, icy arrogance.
Julian picked up his receiver, holding it to his ear. I leaned in close so I could hear every word.
“You came,” Beatrice said, her voice thin and raspy through the crackling speaker, though she didn't bother to greet us. “I suppose you came to gloat over your masterpiece, Julian? To show off how thoroughly your little rustic wife has managed to ruin our family name?”
“No, Mother,” Julian replied calmly, his tone flat and unbothered. “I came to bring you these final settlement papers. Once you sign them, the Vance estate will be officially liquidated to pay for the medical care of the children you harmed.”
Beatrice let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Harmed? I made you! I built an empire that protected you from the mediocrity of the real world! You were weak, Julian. You were soft. If I hadn't managed your life, your health, and your education, you would have been nothing!”
She turned her venomous glare directly through the glass at me.
“And you,” Beatrice sneered, pressing her hand against the glass. “You think you’ve won? You came into my house, dumped my four-thousand-dollar imported formula into the trash, and turned my own son against me. You destroyed thirty years of prestige in an afternoon.”
I looked at the woman behind the glass, feeling no anger, no fear, and no desire to scream. I only felt a cold, profound pity for a person whose soul had rotted away beneath a layer of diamond polish.
I took the receiver from Julian’s hand, holding it to my ear, and met her furious stare without blinking.
“I didn't destroy your family, Beatrice,” I said softly, my voice cutting through the staticky line with absolute clarity. “You destroyed it the moment you decided that control was more important than love. You wanted a obedient puppet, but Julian chose to be a father. You wanted a silent, poisoned doll for a grandson, but Leo is going to grow up strong, healthy, and loved.”
Beatrice’s mouth opened slightly, but for the first time in her life, no sharp retorts came out.
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“Sign the papers, Beatrice,” I added, sliding the documents under the metal slot beneath the partition. “Because whether you sign them or not, you will never see Leo again, and your legacy ends today.”
Slowly, with trembling fingers, Beatrice picked up the plastic pen attached to the desk. She signed her name on the dotted line, pushed the papers back through the slot, and hung up the phone without another word, staring blankly at her lap as the guards led her away into the dark corridor.
