Chapter 11 - The Rebuilding
Three weeks passed. The Sterling penthouse had been completely restored, the shattered windows replaced with triple-pane ballistic glass, and the front entrance reinforced with biometric security locks. Twenty private operators monitored the perimeter round the clock, ensuring not a single unauthorized soul approached within two blocks.
Elena sat on the cream-colored sofa in the living room, cradling Victoria against her chest. The baby had finally been discharged from the hospital, gaining weight steadily and sleeping peacefully through the afternoon warmth.
Julian sat across from her at the dining table, signing the final paperwork transferring forty-nine percent of the company's non-voting stock into a perpetual blind trust under Victoria’s name.
"Arthur Vance’s trial begins next month," Julian remarked without looking up. "The federal prosecutors have over a thousand pages of financial fraud, racketeering, and conspiracy to commit homicide. He will die in an ADX facility."
"And Mateo?" Elena asked softly, her gaze dropping to their daughter’s sleeping face.
"Mateo took a plea bargain," Julian replied, setting his gold pen down. "He gave up every offshore asset, every trust account, and every property deed in exchange for a twenty-year sentence in a state penitentiary. He will never touch a single dollar of the Sterling estate again."
Elena leaned back, letting out a long breath she felt like she had been holding for an eternity. "And Sofia?"
Julian paused, his eyes darkening for a fraction of a second before the mask returned. "Sofia is in a psychiatric facility awaiting trial under twenty-four-hour suicide watch. She will never walk down a city street as a free woman."
The front door opened softly, and Marcus entered the room, carrying a stack of corporate legal folders. He nodded respectfully toward Elena before approaching Julian's desk.
"Mr. Sterling," Marcus said quietly. "We completed the forensic audit on your late father’s personal safe in Switzerland."
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Julian frowned. "I emptied that vault eight years ago."
"Not completely," Marcus said, withdrawing an old, yellowed parchment with a broken wax seal. "There was a false bottom behind the safety deposit drawers. This letter was addressed to you. It was written three days before his death."
