‘Prominent Real Estate Consultant Arrested in Connection with Corporate Fraud.’ My phone didn’t stop ringing. Clients, friends, reporters, and distant relatives all wanted a piece of the story. I ignored them all. I sat in Teresa’s office, watching the news coverage on a muted television.
Gustavo was on the phone with the federal prosecutors, coordinating the handover of the ledger. Teresa walked in, carrying a stack of files. “The US Attorney’s office is moving fast,” she said, dropping the files on her desk. “They’ve indicted him on twelve counts.” “Wire fraud, identity theft, embezzlement, and bribery.”
I let out a long breath.
“Twelve counts.”
“He’s looking at twenty years,” Teresa said.
“But his lawyer is already trying to negotiate a plea deal.”
I looked up, surprised.
“A plea deal? After everything he’s done?”
Teresa smiled, a cold, sharp expression.
“He’s not doing it because he’s remorseful.”
“He’s doing it because the ledger gave the feds everything they need.”
“He knows if he goes to trial, he’s going away for the rest of his life.”
“Will you accept the deal?” I asked.
Teresa shook her head.
“No.”
“The federal prosecutors won’t accept it unless he agrees to full restitution.”
“And he has to testify against his co-conspirators.”
“Co-conspirators?” I repeated.
“Who else is involved?”
Teresa slid a document across the desk.
“His mother, Elena,” she said.
“She was the registered agent for the shell company.”
“And she was the one who held the offshore accounts.”
I stared at the paper.
Elena Rostova.
The woman who had always looked at me with thinly veiled contempt.
The woman who had told me I wasn’t ‘refined’ enough for her son.
“She’s going to prison too?” I asked.
“If she doesn’t flip on him first,” Teresa said.
“Which brings us to the next problem.”
“What problem?”
“Mauricio’s lawyer filed a motion this morning,” Teresa said.
“They’re trying to have the ledger thrown out.”
“They claim it was obtained through an illegal search and seizure.”
I frowned.
“But Gustavo had the key to the unit.”
“Technically, yes,” Teresa said.
“But the unit was rented under a fake name.”
“The defense will argue that you didn’t have legal standing to access it.”
I felt a surge of anger.
“He broke into my company, he stole my money, he bribed city officials, and he’s trying to get the evidence thrown out on a technicality?”
“Welcome to the justice system,” Teresa said dryly.
“But don’t worry.”
“I have a surprise witness who will destroy that argument.”
“Who?” I asked.
Teresa smiled.
“Ximena.”
“Ximena?” I was shocked.
“She was the one who gave me the phone.”
“Exactly,” Teresa said.
“And she’s willing to testify that Mauricio gave her the key to the unit.”
“That means you had implied consent to access it.”
“The illegal search argument falls apart.”
I leaned back in my chair, feeling a wave of relief wash over me.
Ximena had actually come through.
She had chosen to save herself instead of protecting the man who used her.
“Is she safe?” I asked.
“She’s in federal protective custody,” Teresa said.
“The marshals are keeping her in a secure location until the hearing.”
I nodded, looking out the window at the city skyline.
The sun was shining, the clouds finally breaking.
Mauricio thought he could outsmart the system.
He thought his money and his charm would protect him.
But he had forgotten that the truth always leaves a paper trail.
And his trail led straight to a prison cell.
PART 11
The preliminary hearing was set for a Tuesday morning.
The courtroom was packed with reporters, lawyers, and curious onlookers.
I sat in the front row, flanked by Gustavo and Teresa.
Mauricio was led in a few minutes later, wearing an orange jumpsuit and handcuffs.
He looked terrible.
His face was pale, his eyes sunken, and his posture was slumped.
The arrogant, polished man who had walked out of the courthouse on the day of our divorce was gone.
In his place was a broken, desperate criminal.
He didn’t look at me as he was led to the defense table.
His lawyer, a slick, expensive-looking man named Sterling, whispered something in his ear.
Mauricio nodded weakly.
The judge, a stern woman with sharp features, took the bench.
The hearing began.
Sterling immediately stood up and launched into his argument.
“Your Honor, the defense moves to suppress the evidence obtained from the storage unit.”
“He argues that my client’s former wife had no legal authority to enter the premises.”
Teresa stood up smoothly.
“Your Honor, the defense’s argument is baseless.”
“My client was given explicit access to the unit by a key witness.”
She called Ximena to the stand.
Ximena looked small and fragile in the witness box, but her voice was steady.
She recounted how Mauricio had given her the key, how he had asked her to retrieve the phone, and how she had handed it to me.
Sterling cross-examined her, trying to paint her as a bitter, scorned lover.
But Ximena held her ground.
She laid out the truth, plain and simple.
When she stepped down, the judge looked at Sterling.
“Motion to suppress is denied,” she ruled.
“The evidence is admissible.”
Sterling’s face fell.
Mauricio put his head in his hands.
The hearing continued, with the federal prosecutor laying out the sheer volume of evidence against him.
The forged signatures, the shell company, the bribes, the ledger.
It was a mountain of guilt.
When the prosecutor finished, the judge looked directly at Mauricio.
“Mr. Vance,” she said, her voice echoing in the silent courtroom.
“The evidence against you is overwhelming.”
“I strongly suggest you take the plea deal offered by the prosecution.”
Mauricio looked up, his eyes wild.
“No,” he rasped.
“I won’t do it.”
“Mr. Vance,” the judge warned.
“If you go to trial and lose, you will face the maximum sentence.”
“I don’t care,” he spat.
“She ruined me.”
He pointed a shaking finger at me.
“She set me up.”
The courtroom erupted in murmurs.
The judge banged her gavel.
“Order!” she shouted.
She glared at Mauricio.
“Your conduct is disgraceful.”
“Trial is set for three weeks from today.”
“Bail is denied.”
As the guards led him away, Mauricio locked eyes with me.
His face was twisted in a mask of pure hatred.
But I just looked back at him, calm and unmoved.
He was a ghost.
And I was finally done haunting him.
