Chapter 8 - The Stripping of Selina
One year after the trial.
The Federal District Court in New York finalized the criminal conviction of Selina Cole.
Found guilty of corporate espionage, wire fraud, and accessory to aggravated assault, she was sentenced to twelve years in a federal correctional institution in West Virginia.
Before her transfer, her remaining assets were seized under civil forfeiture to satisfy the judgments filed by Vance Global’s new board of directors—which was now chaired by me.
I attended her asset forfeiture hearing in lower Manhattan.
Selina sat at the defense table in a green prison uniform. Her golden hair was dull, her skin dry and breakable, her former beauty completely eroded by the harsh reality of federal detention.
When the judge ordered the seizure of her luxury apartment, her bank accounts, and every piece of jewelry given to her by Flynn, Selina broke down into wild, uncontrollable hysteria.
“You took everything from me!” Selina shrieked, turning toward me in the gallery, her manicured nails long gone, replaced by short, bitten fingers. “You ruined Flynn! You ruined my life! You were just his pathetic little wife!”
I stood up slowly, smoothing the front of my tailored coat.
I walked down the center aisle of the courtroom, stopping right beside the defense table, looking down at her with a calm, pitying smile.
“Flynn didn't love you, Selina,” I said softly, my voice carrying clearly to every corner of the room. “He loved an illusion he created in his head when he was sixteen years old. And when that illusion was put under the light, all that was left was a greedy, hollow woman who traded her youth for a prison sentence.”
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Selina’s breath caught in her throat. She tried to spit at me, but an officer grabbed her shoulder, shoving her down into her chair.
“Enjoy West Virginia, Selina,” I whispered, turning my back on her forever.
