Chapter 5 - THE BETRAYAL WITHIN
Alma did not go to prison that night, but only because her high-priced court-appointed attorney managed to secure a seventy-two-hour temporary emergency bail using the last of her personal jewelry as collateral.
She was stripped of her passport, her home was seized by federal marshals, and her name was splashed across national news networks: LOCAL MANNEQUIN BRIDE SPEARHEADS $80 MILLION FINANCIAL FRAUD RING.
Dressed in a rain-soaked coat, her hair matted, her mascara running down her pale cheeks, Alma dragged her small suitcase through the pouring rain toward the downtown apartment complex where Alejandra lived.
It was her last hope. Alejandra was her best friend. Alejandra had arranged everything. Alejandra would know how to help her find a lawyer or get in touch with Marcos’s real associates.
Alma pounded frantic fists against Alejandra’s door.
“Alejandra! Open up! Please! It’s Alma!”
The door unlocked slowly.
Alejandra stood in the doorway wearing a silk kimono, holding a glass of white wine. She did not open the door wide. She held it on the safety chain, looking at Alma through a three-inch gap.
Her eyes were not full of sympathy. They were cold, calculating, and disgusted.
“Alma,” Alejandra said flatly. “What are you doing here? The news is full of your face. You can't be seen near my apartment.”
“Alejandra, please!” Alma wept, pushing her fingers through the crack in the door. “Marcos set me up! He put all his crimes in my name! The police froze my accounts! I don't have money for food! Let me sleep on your couch!”
Alejandra chuckled—a dry, bitter sound that cut through the sound of the rain.
“Sleep on my couch? Are you insane? If the feds trace you here, they’ll look into my bank accounts too.”
Alma’s breath caught. “Your accounts? Why would they look at your accounts?”
Alejandra sighed, leaning against the doorframe with a wicked, mocking smirk.
“Oh, Alma. You really are as stupid as Marcos said you were.”
Alma felt her heart stop beating. “What do you mean?”
“Do you really think I introduced you to Marcos out of the goodness of my heart?” Alejandra scoffed. “Marcos was looking for a desperate, vain, clueless woman with no family and no legal backing—someone who would sign anything put in front of her as long as it sparkled. He paid me a hundred thousand dollars finder's fee the day you signed those Hastings Capital documents.”
The world went entirely black behind Alma’s eyes.
“You... you sold me?” Alma whispered, her voice cracking into a horrified shriek. “I was your friend! I trusted you!”
“You were a broke girl living in a shanty who complained about eating tomatoes!” Alejandra spat back. “You wanted an easy way out, Alma. I just gave you the push. Now get off my porch before I call the police myself.”
Alejandra slammed the door in her face. The lock clicked with the sound of a gunshot.
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Alma fell to her knees on the wet concrete corridor, clutching her chest, unable to breathe.
She had abandoned an honest man who loved her for a trap built by a friend who had priced her soul at a hundred thousand dollars.
