Chapter 9 - Stripped of Silk and Diamonds
By noon, the federal trials of Arthur Vance, Julian Vance, Henri Laurent, and Camilla Laurent were initiated with historic, devastating efficiency.
Inside the federal executive building on Foley Square, Assistant United States Attorney Marcus Vance signed the final seizure orders.
Arthur Vance was formally remanded without bail to the federal penitentiary in Otisville, facing consecutive life terms for corporate extortion, aggravated kidnapping, and racketeering.
Julian Vance was sentenced to twenty-eight years for attempted sexual assault and battery.
Henri Laurent was sentenced to thirty-five years for interstate money laundering and maritime fraud.
Camilla Laurent was transferred to the federal women’s correctional facility in Danbury, Connecticut, denied bail on felony conspiracy, grand larceny, and corporate extortion charges carrying a mandatory minimum sentence of thirty-two years.
Her designer gowns, her three-hundred-carat sapphire necklace, and her private offshore trust accounts were completely liquidated by court decree.
Meanwhile, at the Thorne mansion on Long Island, Mrs. Gable and the senior household staff were systematically clearing every trace of Camilla’s presence.
Her imported linens, her French perfumes, and her luxury vanity sets were boxed and donated to municipal women’s shelters across New York.
The master bedroom on the second floor was completely refurbished with airy cream linen curtains, fresh bouquets of white hydrangeas, and soft wool rugs that let the winter sunlight flood every corner.
I sat in the master library on the second floor, resting on the velvet chaise lounge, holding a warm cup of herbal tea that Mrs. Gable had prepared with a beaming smile.
Beside me sat my sister Chloe, looking radiant and healthy in a soft green sweater, reviewing her college enrollment packets for the winter semester at Columbia University.
The double mahogany doors swung open.
Gabriel walked in.
He had removed his tuxedo jacket and tie, wearing an open-collared white dress shirt and dark trousers, looking relaxed, powerful, and breathtakingly handsome.
He walked straight to where I was sitting, dropping down onto one knee on the Persian rug beside the lounge.
He reached out, his large, warm hand gently taking my fingers into his own.
“How are you feeling, Maya?” he asked softly, his dark eyes searching mine with an ocean of protective tenderness.
“I feel like I woke up from a nightmare into a sunrise, Gabriel,” I whispered, a radiant smile touching my lips. “Chloe is going to college. My mother’s brownstone is secure. And nobody in this city can make us feel small again.”
Gabriel leaned forward, his thumb gently caressing my cheekbone.
“Your mother called from Brooklyn Heights ten minutes ago,” he murmured, his deep baritone rumbling with joy. “She received the flowers. She asked if she could cook Sunday dinner for our family this weekend.”
Tears of pure happiness welled in my eyes.
“She makes the best steamed dumplings in New York, Gabriel.”
May you like
“Then we will eat dumplings on Long Island, Maya,” Gabriel smiled softly. “Because this house belongs to your family now. Just as it belongs to you.”
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