Chapter 4 - THE REMNANTS OF MAYA AND KENNETH
Three weeks later, the initial storm had begun to settle into a steady, triumphant rhythm.
Under my leadership, Rollins Global had posted its highest single-quarter recovery margin in the company's thirty-year history. The public press conference had been praised by market analysts as a masterclass in corporate transparency. The stock price had not only recovered—it had reached an all-time high.
I sat in my new corner office—the former office of Kenneth Rollins—which I had completely renovated. The dark leather and heavy scotch decanters were gone, replaced by bright white marble, floor-to-ceiling windows, fresh white roses, and modern art.
A soft knock sounded on my door. My new executive assistant, a brilliant young woman named Elena, stepped inside.
"Mrs. Rollins," Elena said quietly. "Your brother is here with your private investigator, Mr. Reyes."
"Send them in, Elena," I smiled.
Justin walked in, looking healthier, his skin clear, his posture confident. He had spent the last three weeks completely overhauling our supply chain operations, proving to be an exceptional leader.
Behind him walked David Reyes, the sharp, silver-haired private investigator I had hired six months ago when I first suspected Kenneth was lying to me.
"Sabrina," David Reyes said, setting a legal document on my marble desk. "I have the final updates regarding your pending civil suits against Kenneth and Maya."
"Give me the short version, David," I said, leaning back in my chair.
"Kenneth’s legal defense team has completely dissolved," David reported. "Once the federal prosecutors added the medical assault charges alongside the thirty-two million dollar fraud indictment, his private attorneys realized he didn't have the liquid assets to pay their retainers. His court-appointed public defender is currently negotiating a plea deal."
"What’s the sentence looking like?" Justin asked, crossing his arms.
"Minimum twenty-five years in a federal maximum-security facility without the possibility of early parole," David confirmed. "His assets—including his car collection, his luxury watches, and his personal accounts—have been completely seized to satisfy your civil restitution judgment."
I nodded slowly. The thought of Kenneth spending the next quarter-century behind concrete walls gave me a deep, peaceful sense of final closure.
"And Maya?" I asked.
David let out a small, dry chuckle. "Maya’s annulment from Justin was finalized yesterday by the family court judge. Because her involvement in the corporate conspiracy was documented, she received zero spousal support, zero alimony, and zero claim to any joint marital property."
"Where is she now?" Justin asked, his tone curious but entirely indifferent.
"She’s living in a tiny one-bedroom basement apartment in Pueblo, working as a junior receptionist at a car rental agency," David revealed. "Her mother refused to let her stay in Boulder after the story hit the local papers. She’s essentially broke, socially ostracized, and facing potential civil accessory charges from our legal team."
Justin looked at me, a soft smile touching his lips. "Do we push the accessory charges against her, Sabrina?"
I looked out the panoramic window at the sun shining brightly over Denver. I thought about the bitter, manipulative woman who had lied to my brother and tried to steal my life.
"No," I decided softly. "Living the rest of her life knowing she traded everything—her dignity, her marriage, her future—for a man who viewed her as nothing more than a disposable tool is a far worse sentence than anything a civil court could give her. Let her live with her choices."
"Understood," David agreed, picking up his hat. "I'll close the file."
Once David left the office, Justin walked over to my desk and set down two mugs of hot coffee.
"You saved this company, Sabrina," Justin said gently, sitting across from me. "And you saved me."
"We saved each other, Justin," I smiled, taking a sip of the warm coffee. "We took back our family."
"Speaking of family," Justin hesitated, looking at me with deep affection. "How are you doing... regarding the medical news?"
I set my coffee cup down. My hands didn't shake anymore. The pain was still there—a quiet, distant scar—but the crushing weight of self-blame was completely gone.
"I had a consultation with Dr. Aris Thorne at the Colorado Reproductive Institute yesterday," I shared softly.
Justin leaned forward, his eyes bright with hope. "And?"
"The tubal damage Kenneth arranged was severe, but my ovaries are completely healthy," I revealed, a tear of pure joy slipping down my cheek. "Dr. Thorne confirmed that through modern IVF and a surrogate—or even direct restorative microsurgery—I still have a very high chance of having a child of my own."
May you like
Justin reached across the desk and grabbed my hands tightly. "Sabrina... that’s incredible!"
"I spent four years believing my body was broken, Justin," I whispered, smiling through my tears. "Now I know I was never broken. I was just surrounded by monsters."
