Chapter 7
The deposition was scheduled for late February.
A small, windowless conference room in a downtown office building.
A court reporter.
Lawyers on both sides.
And Cole, sitting across the table from me, his suit too loose now, his face tight and tired.
For six hours, his lawyers grilled me.
They asked about my mental health.
My relationship with my parents.
Every argument we had ever had.
Every time I had ever cried in front of him.
They tried to twist every memory, every vulnerable moment, into proof that I was unstable, unfit, dangerous.
I answered every question calmly.
Honestly.
I did not yell.
I did not cry.
I did not give him the satisfaction of seeing me break.
Then it was Mr. Harris’s turn to question Cole.
He started slow.
Simple questions about dates, accounts, meetings.
Cole answered easily, arrogant as ever, leaning back in his chair like he was still the smartest man in the room.
Then Mr. Harris changed gears.
He laid out the evidence from Sierra’s envelope.
The emails.
The transfers.
The client accounts.
One by one, he pinned Cole to every lie.
At first, Cole denied everything.
Then he hedged.
Then he started to snap.
His face flushed.
His voice rose.
“Those women knew the risks!” he shouted, slamming his fist on the table. “They wanted high returns! You can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs!”
The court reporter’s fingers flew.
His lead lawyer closed his eyes.
Mr. Harris just kept going, calm as a surgeon.
He asked about Christmas Eve.
About the photograph.
About the necklace.
About the night the twins were sick and he had walked out.
“Your children had fevers of one hundred and three,” Mr. Harris said. “Your wife begged you to stay. And instead, you went to a hotel room with a woman who had no idea you were even married. Is that correct?”
Cole stared at him.
Then he turned his gaze to me.
And for the first time, I did not see anger in his eyes.
I saw fear.
Pure, naked, animal fear.
He knew.
He knew he had lost.
He knew the money was gone.
The reputation was gone.
The family he had taken for granted was gone.
And it was all his own fault.
That night, his legal team withdrew from the case.
They released a short, cold statement saying they could no longer represent a client who refused to follow their advice.
The criminal prosecutors announced they were ready to move forward with fraud, embezzlement, and theft charges.
Cole Whitmore was out of moves.
May you like
Out of money.
Out of time.
