The worst part about being in jail wasn’t the time—that went well—it was the words that I heard from my daughter.
“HE’S DEAD DAD! DEAD! AND IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT! YOUR FAULT… IF ONLY YOU WERE THERE…”
That was the last time she came to see me in jail. My son had just died of a drug overdose. It was through the money I’d made for him and my daughter. My greed for money outdid his greed for drugs, yet what I got was jail and he got death. Funny kind of ‘divine justice’, I thought.
I guess what they say is true—dirty money meets a dirty end. Somehow, I’ve never been the same, arrogant man after that. It was as if something died within me.
Slowly, but surely, I had learnt to bury my guilt with anger. Now all I was greedy for was revenge. Revenge on that quack of an investment banker who ruined my life. And from tomorrow, it begins.
Part IV coming soon…
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