Chapter 6: Atonement

The raid was conducted at noon. Dozens of squad cars, official SUVs, and tactical vehicles converged on the Brennen estate. It was coordinated with the Coast Guard and Boston Police Harbor Patrol, who locked down the waterways surrounding the property. It began quietly; Martin opened a police scanner application to listen in as the authorities coordinated the strike. A pop-up window with a brief text message notified him that the tipped-off network news chopper was en route. Vivian watched silently as he tapped commands onto the smooth surface of the table, calling up the direct footage from the aerial camera. A new screen appeared on the flat panel display filled with static and a flashing message STAND_BY SATGRID OFFLINE CONFIG ... He swept his finger across the monitor and sent the display to one of the big screens. The static continued for another minute, and then aerial footage began streaming live as the helicopter raced across the city.

“WHAT...?” Vivian cried upon recognizing her massive home surrounded by flashing lights. She bolted to her feet and turned on him, her expression distraught and incredulous. “YOU KNEW?”

He shrugged indifferently. “It’s no secret where he sleeps.” He smirked at the digital clock, “or fucks.”

“THAT’S MY HOME!” she raged at him, stabbing her arm at the big screen. “How dare you...”

He raised his hands placatingly. “Easy there! This has nothing to do with me. I made an anonymous tip. The feds found his whereabouts.”

“But you knew!” she spat. “And you didn’t warn me...?” her voice trailed off with the realization of her timely visit.

He winked back at her and gestured to the big screen. “Yes and no,” he said. “I learned about the raid this morning. But I didn’t realize the attention it would receive. Because Kyle lived in the UK for four years to attend Oxford—it triggered a FISA warrant—hence the small army of cops, agents, and task force personnel.”

“I need to get back!” She dashed for the door, and he followed her to the bedroom. She reached for her dress when he grabbed her arm gently. She started to argue, but his look stopped her.

“Anything you expect to fix there, you can do from here,” he said, holding out her phone.

She blinked at it for a moment, trying to fathom the situation. It buzzed in her hand, and she glanced at the caller ID. It was her husband. “Malcolm? What’s happening?” She listened to his frantic voice for several seconds, then cut him off, “What warrant? Who has it?” She glowered at the ceiling. “Then read it, you idiot! Yes, I’m watching the news footage!” With her dress in one hand, she glanced at Martin and twisted her nose before storming out of the bedroom and back to his office. She had to wait for him to scan his retina before it clicked open. “No! They don’t have probable cause to do anything beyond the stipulations specified in the ... where is Kyle?” She blew her breath out and lowered the phone, putting it on speaker.

“—she was leading him to the east cellar,” his frantic voice sounded.

“That stupid child! She’s trying to hide him...” She pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand. “They mustn’t find the tunnels! Take the police down there now and—”

“But they’ll arrest her as well—for harboring or accessorizing or—”

“Let them!” she snarled. “It’ll do her good to learn about consequences. I’ll handle her release later! Move, fool!” She hung up and hugged herself, deep in thought. She selected a contact and dialed. The big screen showed a crowd of authorities gathered around the front of the mansion. “Carlyle! Listen ... the authorities have conducted a...” another muffled voice cut her off. “Oh, God! How soon can you...?”

She plopped her naked butt into Martin’s chair while he quietly observed. He was getting aroused, watching her take charge of matters. He took the dress from her and stepped out while she discussed legalities and strategy with someone, he figured was an attorney. He returned five minutes later with two stemmed glasses of Chardonnay. She listened intently to the voice on her phone when he held out the tall glass. She blinked at it, then at him, before reaching for it assertively. She didn’t sniff or study it before she tipped it back and gulped nearly half of it down.

He chuckled and raised his own glass in salute before taking a drink. He turned to the big screen and nodded, pointing his finger. “Looks like they got him in custody.”

The chopper’s view showed agents leading the disheveled hedge fund manager out of the main entrance. His hands were cuffed behind him, and the officers were practically carrying him across the front yard toward the gathered vehicles. “And Siobhán—”

Two more agents appeared, leading his red-haired wife, her hands cuffed as well. The camera zoomed in on her shocked expression.

“Yes, I see it,” Vivian said softly, with a hint of emotion. “Take care of it, will you, Carlton?” Her face appeared drawn with a mixture of anguish and anger. “Thank you.” She started to lower her phone and then paused. “And Carlton...? At your leisure.” Disconnecting, she let her hand fall heavily while raising the glass in her other. “This is going to be a media firestorm!”

When he didn’t reply, she turned and looked at him askance. Noting his gaze and expression, she frowned. “What are you smirking about? And why are you staring at my tits?” Her eyes dropped to his... Oh my! He was hard as a post.

“You have no idea how fucking sexy you are right now,” he remarked lustfully.

“I might have a hunch.” Her voice was heavy as she recognized the hunger in his eyes. She felt the familiar tremor in her chest as her heart began racing. It was as if the curtains had been drawn on the drama unfolding around them. She was captivated by his ardent gaze, prepared to give herself to him however he desired. God, I want him to take me! Her eyes widened when he set his glass aside and knelt before her. With a soft touch on her knee, she opened her legs and reclined in the chair, scooting her bum forward to offer her warm and sensitive pussy to his tender mercies.

He obliged her by encircling her legs with his arms and grasping her inner thighs firmly. When he pressed his open mouth onto her labia, she took in a sharp breath and grabbed a handful of his hair with her empty hand. He didn’t ease into her like before. His primal urges aroused him, and he ate her like a beast.

At his arraignment the next day, Kyle Jennings was charged with embezzlement, grand larceny, wire fraud, securities fraud, tax evasion, perjury, insider trading, cybercrimes, and resisting arrest. Despite his prominent family’s efforts, he was ordered into pre-trial confinement and held without bail. Siobhán Landry-Brennen was charged with aiding and abetting a felon, collusion with a felon, harboring a felon, and conspiracy. She looked pale and haggard, wearing an off-white jumpsuit and slippers, and was led into the courtroom with her legs shackled and hands cuffed in front, with a chain linking the two. Her bail was set at $250,000, which her lawyer agreed to before she was returned to her cell. Unfortunately, there was a mix-up in how and where the amount was to be paid, and before it could be corrected, the banks had closed. So, she had to spend a second night in jail. It was late afternoon the next day before she was finally escorted out of the county building and turned over to her mother and husband, who wore identical expressions. During the ride home (to the Brennen Estate), she sat tearfully and quietly in the back of the limousine, refusing to look at either.

Kyle’s trial was delayed for five months. During that time, the prosecution built a damning case against him. He was found guilty by summary judgment and sentenced to 25 years in prison with parole eligibility in 15.

Siobhán was sentenced to three years of confinement, commuted to 50 hours of community service, and a hefty fine. Throughout the winter, she hid in her suite with her children. She rarely spoke to Martin except when pressured to. Junior and Olivia were well cared for by the staff and spent a great deal of time with their father in his apartment. By spring, she had completed her community service and re-emerged from her sullen shell.

Martin tried to engage with her but with limited success. At least she began acknowledging him and initiated conversation once or twice. Her mother was terse and unforgiving due to the embarrassment she caused the family. Curiously, she made no effort to steer her back to her husband’s company.

She began venturing out alone, sometimes not returning until after dark. She kept her activities to herself and scorned her mother’s inquiries. During one of their intimate encounters, Vivian brought this up with Martin, and he became curious about her behavior. His wife had become oddly complacent and open with her family for weeks. She engaged with the children playfully and spoke with him over the phone more frequently. Their conversations were initially strained and lacked substance. Still, they began discussing the kids, their transition to preschool, and future planning, like trust funds and wellness check-ups. The giant elephant in the room remained persona non grata. When he inquired about her outings, she remained non-committal, mentioning a new focus on self-care and finding new interests.