Chapter 6 - The Confrontation in Holding
Later that afternoon, I agreed to a brief, supervised meeting down at the county detention facility.
Dominic had requested—begged, according to the prison guard—to speak with me for five minutes before his arraignment hearing. He was currently being held in a secure holding room, wearing an orange jumpsuit that hung loosely over his once-tailored frame.
When I walked into the visitation room, separated by a thick sheet of reinforced safety glass, Dominic looked up from the metal table. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair unwashed, and his hands trembled uncontrollably as he gripped the edges of the bolted chair.
"Vivienne..." he choked out, his voice cracking with desperate emotion. He stood up and pressed his palms against the glass. "Thank God... please, you have to help me. They're saying I could go to prison for a decade! You know me! You know I'm not a criminal!"
I sat down calmly on the stool on the other side of the glass, resting my hands over my still-growing baby bump.
"I knew a man named Dominic, yes," I replied evenly, my voice devoid of any warmth or hatred. Just absolute, freezing indifference. "A man who pretended to be ambitious, hardworking, and kind. But that man turned out to be a projection—a mask worn by a weak, arrogant coward who thought he could bully and abuse a pregnant woman to feed his fragile ego."
"I was stressed! The wedding, the firm, the pressure!" Dominic sobbed, tears streaming down his face as he banged weakly against the glass. "Please, Vivienne! We have a child coming! Think of the baby!"
"I am thinking of the baby," I said firmly, my eyes locking onto his with razor-sharp clarity. "That is why I am making sure my child never has to spend a single second around a toxic, fraudulent parasite who values social status over human life."
"You're destroying me!" he screamed, the mask of remorse instantly slipping to reveal the ugly, entitled rage underneath. "You set me up! You knew who your family was all along and you hid it from me! You played me!"
I let out a quiet, unimpressed sigh.
"I didn't play you, Dominic. I gave you enough rope to hang yourself," I corrected him. "You built a castle of lies on quicksand, and you blamed everyone else when it finally collapsed. Enjoy your time in federal custody. I’m sure orange is your color."
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I stood up, picked up my handbag, and turned toward the exit.
"Vivienne! Vivienne, don't leave me!" Dominic's screams echoed off the concrete walls behind me, but I didn't even slow my pace.
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