Chapter 12 - The Desperate PleaDeep inside the Cook County Central Detention Facility, the air tasted of stale floor wax and metallic sweat.
Evan sat behind a thick sheet of plexiglass, wearing an oversized orange jumpsuit that made his once-broad shoulders look narrow and frail. His dark hair was greasy, his jaw covered in three days of rough stubble.
Sitting across from him in the visitor's booth was his lead criminal defense attorney, Marcus Thorne, along with James Vance, who sat silently with his leather folder resting on his knees.
"You have to get me out of here, Marcus!" Evan pleaded, his cuffs clinking loudly against the stainless-steel counter. "My cellmate is a violent felon! I haven't slept in seventy-two hours! Get me bail! Offer them my shares! Offer them the house!"
"Evan, shut up and listen to me," Marcus Thorne snapped, rubbing his tired temples. "There is no bail. The judge saw the high-definition video of you hitting her with the cane. The prosecution has categorized the footage as deliberate, premeditated torture to force a corporate transfer. They're charging you with Class X felony aggravated battery and attempted extortion."
"She provoked me!" Evan yelled, slamming his hand against the glass, drawing a sharp warning glare from a guard standing nearby. "It was a marital dispute! She was hiding company records from me!"
James Vance leaned closer to the microphone, his expression completely devoid of pity.
"Mr. Mercer, the State's Attorney is prepared to offer you a plea deal," James said, his voice dropping into a razor-sharp tone. "You plead guilty to all counts of felony assault, wire fraud, and grand larceny. You sign over your remaining fifteen-percent equity stake in Mercer Logistics as partial criminal restitution, and you accept a fixed sentence of twelve years in a maximum-security state facility."
Evan stared at James in utter disbelief, a nervous, hysterical laugh bubbling up from his throat.
"Twelve years?! Are you out of your mind?!" Evan shrieked. "Tell Claire to come here! Let me talk to her! She loves me! She's just hurt and angry because of my parents! I know how to talk to her—"
"Mrs. Mercer will never speak to you again," James cut him off cleanly. "And if you reject this plea deal today, we go to trial next month. With the digital evidence we hold, the prosecutor will seek the maximum sentence of twenty-five years without possibility of early parole."
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"She's bluffing!" Evan wept, his voice cracking as tears ran through the grime on his cheeks. "She won't destroy me! I made her!"
"You didn't make her, Evan," James said quietly, standing up and buttoning his suit jacket. "You just leaned on her until she decided to stop holding you up."
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