Chapter 9 - The Final Settlement
Six months later.
The high-rise conference room at the New York Supreme Court was quiet, flooded with soft afternoon sunlight.
I sat at the long oak table beside my divorce attorney, Sarah Jenkins.
Across the table sat Alexander Montalvo.
He was wearing a plain gray prison jumpsuit, his hands cuffed at the wrists, guarded by two state correction officers. In six months, he had aged ten years. His hair was streaked with gray, his cheeks were hollow, and his eyes lacked any of the fiery arrogance he had once possessed.
He had entered a guilty plea to two counts of federal wire fraud and was currently serving a four-year sentence at a minimum-security federal facility in upstate New York. Camila Reyes had received a three-year sentence after surrendering all stolen assets.
On the table between us sat the final divorce settlement and asset division agreement.
Sarah Jenkins slid the documents across the table toward Alexander’s public defender.
“Under the terms of the agreement,” Sarah stated cleanly, “Mr. Montalvo surrenders all remaining equity shares in Montalvo Global, liquidates his interest in the Manhattan penthouse to satisfy corporate restitution requirements, and waives all claims to spousal support.”
Alexander didn't even look at the numbers. He picked up the pen with his trembling hand and signed his name on the final line.
He pushed the paper back across the table, looking up at me for the first time in six months.
“Victoria,” he said, his voice raspy and thin. “I’m sorry.”
I looked at him. The anger I had carried on that cold morning in the elevator was completely gone. In its place was a quiet, peaceful indifference.
“I know you are, Alexander,” I said softly. “You’re sorry you got caught.”
“I ruined everything, didn't I?” he whispered, a single tear slipping down his gaunt cheek. “I had a great company. I had a wife who saved my business three times over. And I threw it all away for... for nothing.”
“You threw it away because you thought power meant looking down on people,” I told him, standing up from my chair. “You thought being at the top meant you were invincible.”
I reached into my leather briefcase and pulled out a small velvet box.
I set it on the table right in front of him.
Alexander looked at the box, his brow furrowing slightly. “What’s this?”
“Open it,” I said.
With his cuffed hands, Alexander slowly flipped open the velvet lid.
Inside lay the white ceramic watch. It had been recovered from federal evidence, polished, and returned to the firm.
“Give it to your mother,” I said quietly. “Her birthday is next week. I already paid the restitution value to the company so it’s completely unencumbered.”
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Alexander stared at the timepiece, his chest heaving as silent sobs wracked his body.
I turned away, walked out of the conference room, and stepped into the bright, open hallway where the elevator was waiting.
