Chapter 5 - The Glass Tower
The federal precinct on Pearl Street did not look like a place for billionaires.
It was stark, cold, and smelled of stale coffee, floor disinfectant, and wet wool. Outside the heavy glass windows, the sun was just beginning to rise over the East River, painting the morning sky in bruises of purple and orange.
Naomi had finally fallen asleep on a vinyl couch in a private office, wrapped in a heavy wool police blanket.
I stood by the window, holding a paper cup of lukewarm tea, watching the news reports on a small television mounted in the corner of the room.
“BREAKING NEWS: Julian Ashford, Chairman of the Ashford Arts Foundation, has been arrested by Federal Agents in connection with a multi-billion-dollar international money laundering and conspiracy investigation...”
Images flashed across the screen—Julian Ashford, hands cuffed behind his back, being led down the concrete steps of the Federal Building, surrounded by a horde of shouting reporters and flashing cameras. Behind him walked Celeste Langford, her face hidden beneath dark sunglasses, dodging questions from the press.
The door to the office opened.
Roman Ashford walked in.
He was wearing an oversized grey sweatshirt provided by the station, his eyebrow stitched and bandaged. He looked exhausted, stripped of the aura of immense wealth that had surrounded him at the gala twelve hours ago. He was no longer the prince of Manhattan. He was just a man facing the wreckage of his life.
He stopped three feet away from me.
“Julian’s lawyers are trying to negotiate a plea deal,” Roman said quietly. “He’s offering to surrender all offshore accounts in exchange for dropping the corporate homicide charges regarding Marcus.”
My hands tightened around the paper cup until the hot tea spilled over the rim. “And?”
“Sarah Mercer refused,” Roman replied. “The silver drive contained the direct wire transfers from Julian’s personal account to the hitman who drove the truck on June 14th. He will be charged with First-Degree Murder.”
I closed my eyes, letting out a breath I felt like I had been holding for five long years.
Marcus wasn't a forgotten statistic anymore. He wasn't an unsolved case in a dusty file cabinet. The men who had ordered his death were going to stand in a courtroom and answer for every single dollar they had taken from his family.
“What about you?” I asked, opening my eyes to look at Roman.
Roman let out a quiet, tired sigh. “I surrendered my passport an hour ago. I signed a full confession regarding my knowledge of the laundering operations over the last five years. I’m facing six to eight years in a federal facility.”
I stared at him. “You gave up everything.”
“I didn't give up anything that belonged to me,” Roman said, his grey eyes looking into mine with absolute clarity. “The Ashford fortune was built on blood, Maya. By noon today, the federal government will freeze the entire estate. Every asset, every building, every account.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue folder, laying it on the table near Naomi.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“The Ashford Arts Foundation holds a independent trust established by my mother in 1994,” Roman explained. “It is completely clean, untouched by Julian’s operations. Before I turned myself in, I transferred the entire balance—twelve million dollars—into a private educational and living trust under Naomi Vance’s name.”
I took a step back, shaking my head. “No. We don't want your money, Roman.”
“It isn't my money,” Roman said firmly, his voice dropping into that deep, measured rhythm I had heard in the ballroom. “It is restitution. It is the money your husband earned, the life he was stolen from, and the future your daughter deserves. You can burn it, give it to charity, or use it to buy her a house with a yard where she can play without worrying about rent.”
May you like
He looked over at Naomi sleeping on the couch.
“She doesn't ever have to stand at the edge of a room again, Maya,” Roman whispered, a faint tear slipping down his cheek. “That was my promise to her on the dance floor. And it’s the only promise I intend to keep.”
