Violet stood, her silk robe fluttering as she walked toward him. She placed a manicured hand on his shoulder. "I know, son," she purred, her eyes devoid of the stress of a woman facing life in prison. "You weren't there when the doors were kicked in. I believe you."
"But how?" Seron stammered, looking at the luxury surrounding them. "The charges... the evidence Max gave them... it's over, isn't it?"
Violet let out a low, melodic laugh that sent a chill down Seron's spine. "You really don't know who your mother is, do you? You think a few pieces of paper and a disgruntled Max can tear down what I've built over decades?"
She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I will be out of here soon. And when I am, Max will pay for every second of this inconvenience. But you, Seron... it's time you grew up."
