Chapter 6 - The Broken Lion
Three months after the arrests, the pre-trial discovery phase had systematically dismantled the Vance family empire.
Vance Financial Holdings went into involuntary bankruptcy after federal regulators seized twelve million dollars in offshore accounts. The family mansion in Willow Creek was put up for public auction, and Victoria’s luxury boutique memberships were canceled as her assets were frozen by court order.
Inside the visiting room of the Cook County Jail, Marcus Vance sat behind a thick sheet of bulletproof glass, wearing an orange jumpsuit. His broken nose had healed crookedly, his manicured hands were now rough and dry, and his eyes were hollowed out by months of sleeping on a thin metal cot.
On the other side of the glass, I sat comfortably in a sharp navy blazer, holding my four-month-old daughter, Lily, in my arms.
Marcus picked up the heavy plastic telephone receiver with a trembling hand.
I picked up my receiver, holding it to my ear, looking at him with cool, detached composure.
"Phoebe..." Marcus begged, his voice cracking through the static speaker. "Phoebe, please. Look at me. I'm dying in here. The guys in here... they know who my father is. They know what I did to you. They treat me like garbage."
"You are garbage, Marcus," I said calmly. "You choked a woman six hours after she gave birth to your child. Did you expect a red carpet in prison?"
"I'm sorry! I swear to God, I'm sorry!" Marcus sobbed, pressing his forehead against the cold glass. "I was stupid! My father forced me to do the embezzlement! My mother told me to be strict with you! It wasn't me, Phoebe! I loved you!"
"You didn't love me, Marcus," I replied, my voice steady and cold. "You loved the control. You loved the idea of having a quiet, obedient wife you could step on whenever your father made you feel small. But you picked the wrong woman. And you definitely picked the wrong father-in-law."
Marcus looked at little Lily, who was giggling peacefully, reaching her tiny hands toward the reflection of the light on the glass.
"Is... is that my daughter?" Marcus whispered, tears falling down his cheeks.
"She is my daughter, Marcus," I corrected firmly. "The family court judge signed the final decree yesterday. Your parental rights have been permanently terminated. Her legal name is Lily Vance. She will never hear your name, she will never visit your prison, and she will grow up knowing what a real man looks like because she has my father."
Marcus slammed his hand against the glass. "You can't do this! I'm her father!"
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"You're a convict, Marcus," I said, standing up from my chair and adjusting Lily’s blanket. "You have a seven-year sentence waiting for you at Stateville Penitentiary. I suggest you spend that time learning how to do your own laundry."
I hung up the plastic phone, turned my back on his screaming, tear-streaked face, and walked out of the prison visitor center into the bright, beautiful sunshine.
