Chapter 8 - The Trial of the Decade
The trial lasted less than two weeks. It was a media circus.
I sat in the front row of the courtroom every single day, wearing my sharpest suits, staring a hole through the defendants' table. Chloe and Derek sat as far away from each other as physically possible.
The prosecution's case was a masterclass in destruction. They played the tape. When Arthur's frail, desperate voice echoed through the courtroom, detailing how his own daughter had denied him his pain medication to force him to sign the forged will, the jury gasped. One of the jurors actually started crying.
Chloe buried her face in her hands, realizing that no amount of fake tears or designer clothes could save her from the monster she had revealed herself to be.
When it was time for the defense, Chloe’s lawyer tried to argue that the tape was a deep fake, created by me out of spite.
Harrison Cole, acting as a special consultant to the prosecution, absolutely destroyed the expert witness on cross-examination, proving the audio was authentic and raw.
Before the jury even deliberated, Chloe fired her lawyer in open court and tried to throw herself on the mercy of the judge, sobbing hysterically and begging for a second chance.
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The judge, a stern woman with zero tolerance for white-collar cruelty, looked down at her with absolute disgust.
"Mrs. Vance," the judge said coldly. "In my twenty years on the bench, I have rarely seen an act of such calculated, soulless greed. You did not just steal money; you stole a dying man's dignity."
