Chapter 7 - The Unraveling of Paige Renshaw
While Marin took control of the corporate empire in Newport, federal holding facility Block B in Providence was playing host to a much less harmonious reunion.
In the high-security visitor’s booth, separated by thick reinforced plexiglass, Paige Renshaw sat in her orange jumpsuit, glaring across the glass at her high-priced defense attorney.
"What do you mean, bail was denied?" Paige shrieked into the telephone receiver, her face twisted with rage. "Callum has millions stashed offshore! Use his money!"
"Miss Renshaw," the attorney sighed wearily, shuffling his papers. "Federal prosecutors have frozen every single one of Mr. Hargrove's accounts, domestic and international. Furthermore, the documents seized from your apartment indicate that you were not merely an accessory; you were the mastermind behind the shell company's tax evasion scheme. The federal sentencing guidelines for your charges carry up to fifteen years."
Paige slammed the phone back onto its cradle, her eyes wide with mounting panic.
She had thought she was playing a brilliant, ruthless game. She had believed she could manipulate Callum, edge Marin out of the picture, and inherit a multi-million-dollar hospitality empire. Instead, she had walked directly into a federal trap designed by her own greed.
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Across the holding area, a prison guard unlocked her cell door, gesturing sharply for her to return to her block. Paige stood up slowly, her expensive manicured nails digging into her palms until they bled. As she walked back down the stark, fluorescent-lit corridor, she realized the bitterest truth of all: Marin Hargrove hadn't just survived her attempt to destroy her.
Marin had taken everything.
