Chapter 12 - ROSS BREAKS
On the other side of the facility, in the maximum-security holding block, Ross Vance was learning what life looked like without his sister’s credit cards.
His court-appointed attorney, a sharp-tongued public defender named Marcus Cho, sat across the table from him in the interview room.
“I’m not taking a deal!” Ross screamed, pounding his cuffed fists onto the metal table. “Are you deaf? I told you, I’m getting married! Call Arthur Sterling! He’ll post my bail! Tell Julianna to bring her father down here right now!”
Cho sighed, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. He slid a folder across the table.
“Mr. Vance, let me bring you into reality, because clearly you’re living in a fantasy world,” Cho said bluntly. “Arthur Sterling has filed a restraining order against you on behalf of himself and his daughter. Miss Sterling has surrendered your engagement ring to the police as evidence of theft. Furthermore, Mr. Sterling has offered his private Gulfstream to fly the prosecution’s expert hypothermia witness in from the Mayo Clinic for your trial.”
Ross stared at the papers. “Julianna... Julianna wouldn't do that. She loves me. She knows I’m a founder!”
“You’re not a founder, Mr. Vance. You’re an inmate,” Cho said coldly. “And things just got significantly worse for you. An hour ago, the U.S. Attorney’s office unsealed an eleven-count indictment against you for wire fraud, forgery, grand larceny, and bank fraud involving your late father’s estate and your sister’s assets.”
Ross’s face went dead white. “Federal? But... but that’s white-collar stuff! People don't go to real prison for that!”
“They go to federal penitentiaries, Mr. Vance. Where there is no parole. The sentencing guidelines on the federal charges alone carry a mandatory minimum of fifteen years. Combined with the state charges for attempted manslaughter and child endangerment... you are looking at twenty-five to thirty years behind bars.”
Ross collapsed back into his metal chair, his chest heaving as if he couldn't get enough air into his lungs. The swagger, the arrogance, the polished country-club smirk—all of it disintegrated into a puddle of pitiful, sniffling terror.
“My sister...” Ross whimpered, tears leaking from his bloodshot eyes. “Lauren wouldn't let me go to prison for thirty years. She loves me. She always fixes things for me. When I crashed her car in college, she paid for it. When I got kicked out of my fraternity, she talked to the dean. She’s my sister!”
Cho looked at the young man with unadulterated contempt.
“Your sister was the attending physician who had to watch her colleagues shock her nine-year-old daughter’s heart back to life because of you,” Cho said, packing his papers back into his briefcase. “If I were you, Mr. Vance, I would pray that she never sets foot in this courtroom. Because if the jury sees the way she looks at you, they’ll deliberate for about four minutes before handing you the maximum sentence allowed by law.”
Cho stood up and knocked on the door for the guard.
“I’ll be back on Tuesday with the formal plea offer,” Cho said without looking back. “The State is offering twenty years. Ten in state prison, ten in federal, to be served consecutively. I suggest you sign it, because if this goes to trial, you will die an old man behind bars.”
May you like
The door opened, and Cho walked out, leaving Ross curled into a ball in the corner of the interrogation room, weeping like the coward he had always been.
***
