The Tycoon Heir

Chapter 3: Ruinous Powers

This cold, dark holding cell felt like a suffocating box to Nathan. Gray concrete walls threatened to close in on him with each tick of the second. Clanking metal bars echoed off the silence to remind him he was locked up-somewhere he never thought he'd be. He sat upon the hard bench, trying to fathom what was real and what wasn't with his head racing in bewilderment. How had this all gone so wrong? How could he be here, accused of something he had not done?

The iron door of the cell creaked as it swung open, and in came two police officers-one tall and with a scowl, the other much shorter but stocky, with a smile that set Nathan on edge.

"Stand up," ordered the tall officer gruffly.

Nathan hesitated before rising to his feet, his body stiff from the cold. He wasn’t sure what to expect next, but his gut told him it wouldn’t be good.

The taller officer pointed to the bench. “Sit. We’re going to have a little chat.”

Nathan sat down again, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He had no idea what was going on or why the police were after him, let alone how they found him in the first place. It all felt like some sort of bad dream. He had always known life for him was tough, but he never thought he would get pulled into something like this.

The short, stocky officer moved further in and slammed a folder onto the table in front of Nathan. He jerked forward at the sudden loud noise, instinctively pushing backward.

"We've been investigating some missing funds," the tall officer started, "big sums of money that just disappeared from the company you work for. And guess what? The trail led directly to you."

Nathan's eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean? I took no money!"

The two officers looked at each other in a way that seemed to imply the utterance of his words was irrelevant. The stout one leaned in closer, hot and heavy breathing included. "Save your lies. You are the one who has access to the systems of the company. We traced it all to your computer and user ID.

I swear, I didn't do it!" Nathan pleaded in a quivering voice. "I don't know anything about it!"

"Enough," the tall officer barked. "We don't have time to listen to your lies. We know what you are up to. Embezzlement. Siphoning off company money. You thought you'd get away with it.

Nathan's head was spinning; he couldn't seem to fathom this. Why would anybody implicate him in this thing? He didn't have the level of skill or capability in pulling off something like that. Always the lowly IT guy, the one nobody paid any attention to-what would they even begin to think he'd do so big?

The short officer crossed his arms over his chest. "You actually think you can sugarcoat this and make it all disappear? You think you're above the law because of your little connections?"

Nathan's chest constricted as pressure tightened. "I don't know what's going on," he whispered, breaking. "I didn't do anything wrong. Please, you have to believe me."

What do you think, huh?" the stout officer asked his partner and the smile across his face broadened. "You think he's telling the truth? I don't. He's a liar, just like the rest of them."

Nathan swallowed hard as their words crushed him. He could hardly envision himself being accused of something he had not done and finding himself in such a situation. The thought turned his stomach.

The tall officer leaned closer, his eyes cold and unfeeling. “You’re just a nobody. A nobody who thought he could get away with stealing from people who are way above your level. You’re nothing.”

The words cut into Nathan where no words previously had or could ever be explained. He had been used to people looking down their noses at him, but this? This was something else. They treated him like a criminal yet did nothing.

Before Nathan could utter one word in return, they had turned and left the room without another word, leaving him to stew in his confusion and fear.

He sat there for hours, the coldness of the cell seeping into his bones. His mind just would not quit racing, spinning out of control. How had this happened to him? He was the good guy, always taking the high road. He'd never stolen from anyone, and he'd never tried to hurt anyone. But now, here he was, accused of this most vile thing.

His stomach growled, but it didn't matter. His mind was too busy, too clouded with the unfairness of it all. He knew no one would come for him, not his wife, not the in-laws, nobody. He had long accepted he was alone in this world. Yet, he felt as if he was to blame for everything. Always small and insignificant, and now the weight of that insignificance crushed him more than ever.

Night dragged along, and Nathan lay on the cold bench, staring at the ceiling. Sleep wouldn't come to him as his mind was still buzzing with questions and regrets. He thought of his wife-the woman whom he married two years ago. He had done everything in his power to be a good husband, despite her and her family treating him like trash. Would she stand by him now? Would she take his word for it, when he claimed that he had not done it?

Still, deep inside him, he knew the answer. Till thus far, she hadn't been there for him meaningfully; why would this change?

The following day, at noon, the cell door finally swung open. At the sight of his wife flanked by his boss, Madam Rose, and a couple of officers, Nathan's heart skipped a beat. He blinked, trying to make sense of the scene in front of him.

"Get up," one of the officers said to him, nodding toward the woman.

Nathan stood up; his legs had been trembling for hours of sitting. His wife's cold eyes met his, and for an instance that flicker of hope, maybe, perhaps she would support him.

But soon that was doused when his wife spoke in that cold, faraway voice.

"Tell the officers what you found," she said to Madam Rose.

The older woman gave Nathan a glance, her face twisted in a sneer. “You’ve really messed up this time, haven’t you?”

The officers filled him in on the "evidence" they had found-a direct link from him to the missing funds, they claimed. It was his computer, his ID-all pointing in his direction. His wife narrowed her eyes in an argumentative way as Nathan sought to desperately explain himself.

I didn't do it! You've got to believe me, please!" he pleaded. His voice was so plaintive; however, his wife refused to utter a word, staring at him in contempt.

Finally, Madam Rose spoke her mind, "He's lying! He's always been a deceiver. You ought to have known that something of this sort was possible by him.

A wave of humiliation washed over Nathan; this was the woman who was his wife, his partner in life, supposed to believe in him, to believe when things got tough. Now, she acted just as everybody else did-as though he was some worthless crook.

After the police were gone, his wife confronted him, her face hard in anger.

"I always knew you'd do something like this," she said in a low furious voice. "I knew you would ruin everything."

Nathan's heart twisted. "No, please. I didn't do anything wrong. I-"

She cut him off, her eyes cold as ice. "I don't want to hear it. Here." She threw something at him, and Nathan snatched it in his jittery hands-a divorce paper.

“Sign it,” she commanded. “I don’t want to be married to a criminal. Sign it before tomorrow morning, or I’ll make sure this mess destroys you.”

With that, she turned and walked away without another word, leaving Nathan standing there in stunned silence.

And then, noiseless as a ghost, the door closed, the whole world of Nathan fell in and rolled away with a rush: his wife against him dead weight. He was ruined.