Chapter 5
Z
The criminal courtroom in Lower Manhattan was packed to absolute capacity. Journalists, television crews, and curious onlookers crammed into the wooden pews, creating a suffocating hum of anticipation.
I sat in the front row, right behind the prosecution table, flanked by Sophia and two private security guards.
When the side door opened and the bailiffs led Victoria Vance into the courtroom, a collective gasp ran through the room.
The former queen of Manhattan society was unrecognizable. She was dressed in an oversized orange jail jumpsuit, her hands handcuffed in front of her waist, her ankles shackled. Her expensive hair was a matted, graying mess, and her skin looked sallow and sunken.
As she was led toward the defense table, her eyes scanned the courtroom frantically—until they landed on me.
Her steps faltered. A look of pure, burning venom flashed across her face, followed immediately by a wave of desperate terror.
I didn't smile. I didn't sneer. I simply looked at her with cool, absolute indifference. That was what broke her—the realization that she no longer had any power to hurt me, move me, or provoke me. I looked at her the way one looks at a bug on the windshield.
"Court is now in session. Honorable Judge Thomas presiding," the bailiff announced.
Judge Thomas, a stern, grey-haired woman with a reputation for mercilessness toward wealthy offenders, took her seat and shuffled the case files.
"We are here for the arraignment of Victoria Vance," Judge Thomas stated. "Charges include Aggravated Assault in the First Degree, Reckless Endangerment, Tampering with Physical Evidence, and Conspiracy."
Victoria’s court-appointed public defender—since no private lawyer would take her without a retainer—stood up hastily. "Your Honor, my client pleads not guilty to all charges. We request an immediate reduction in bail. Mrs. Vance is a pillar of the community, a prominent philanthropist, and poses zero flight risk—"
"A pillar of the community?" Judge Thomas interrupted, raising an eyebrow over her reading glasses. "Counselor, I have reviewed the video evidence provided by the District Attorney. The defendant is clearly seen physically assaulting her pregnant daughter-in-law at the top of a marble staircase, leading to a near-fatal fall and the loss of an unborn child. Furthermore, there is recorded audio of her attempting to bribe a security firm to destroy the evidence."
Victoria leaned into her lawyer, whispering frantically, "Tell her it was an accident! Tell her the girl slipped!"
"Quiet, Mrs. Vance," the public defender whispered back, sweating profusely under his cheap suit.
"Your Honor," the prosecutor stood up. "The State considers Mrs. Vance an extreme flight risk. She possesses multiple foreign bank accounts under investigation for money laundering, and her son was caught trying to flee the country earlier today. We request that bail be revoked entirely pending trial."
"Please, Your Honor!" Victoria suddenly blurted out, breaking court decorum. She gripped the edge of the table, her shackles rattling loudly. "Look at me! I am an old woman! I have heart conditions! I cannot stay in that filthy prison! It was a family dispute! Audrey pushed me first! She’s framing me! Ask my son!"
Judge Thomas slammed her gavel down with a sharp, thunderous CRACK.
"Silence in my courtroom, Mrs. Vance! One more outburst and I will cite you for contempt!"
Victoria collapsed back into her chair, sobbing hysterically into her handcuffed hands.
"Given the severity of the violent charges, the clear attempt to destroy evidence, and the overwhelming strength of the video footage," Judge Thomas ruled coldly, "bail is hereby DENIED. The defendant will remain in custody at the Rose M. Singer Center until trial."
CRACK!
"No! Noooo!" Victoria shrieked as two guards grabbed her arms to drag her away. She thrashed against them, her shackles clanking wildly against the floor. "Audrey! You monster! Tell them! Tell them to let me go! Dominic, save me! DOMINIC!"
I watched as she was hauled through the side doors, her screams fading into the echoing hallway of the courthouse.
As the courtroom began to clear out, Sophia leaned over to me. "That went even better than expected. No bail means she’s locked up for at least six months until the trial date."
"Where is Dominic?" I asked, standing up.
"He was spotted in the lobby downstairs," Sophia said, checking her phone. "He tried to get into the courtroom, but security barred him. He’s waiting outside near your car."
"Let's go meet him," I said quietly.
When I stepped out of the courthouse onto the grand marble steps, the bright afternoon sun hit my face. A wall of news reporters immediately rushed forward, cameras flashing, microphones thrusting toward me.
"Ms. Crestwood! How do you feel about the judge denying bail?!"
"Is Vance Development filing for bankruptcy?!"
"What do you have to say to your ex-husband?!"
My security team formed a tight ring around me, clearing a path down the stairs. And there, standing at the bottom of the steps, looking like a homeless man in a wrinkled suit, was Dominic.
He pushed through the crowd of reporters, his eyes wild, his hair uncombed.
"Audrey!" he yelled, throwing himself toward me. My guards instantly blocked him, holding him back by his chest. "Audrey, please! They locked my mother up! She won't survive in Rikers, Audrey! She's sixty-two years old! You have to drop the charges!"
I stopped at the bottom step, looking down at him.
"Drop the charges?" I asked, my voice carrying clearly over the quieted crowd of reporters. "She pushed me down the stairs, Dominic. She killed our baby."
"It was an accident! You know she has a temper!" Dominic pleaded, tears streaming down his face. "She didn't mean to kill the baby! Please, Audrey! I'll do anything! I'll sign the divorce papers! I'll sign over every right to the company! Just tell the DA it was an accident so she can come home!"
"She is home, Dominic," I said coldly. "Rikers Island is exactly where a woman like her belongs."
"You heartless bitch!" Dominic suddenly snapped, his desperation turning into venomous rage once more. "You planned this! You hid your money, you trapped us, you let my mother hit you just so you could take everything I worked for! You sacrificed our baby for revenge!"
The entire crowd of reporters gasped at his horrific accusation.
I didn't flinch. I stepped closer to him, right up to the line of security guards.
"I loved that baby more than my own life, Dominic," I whispered, every word dripping with absolute poison. "And the fact that you just accused me of using my child's death as a business tactic proves that you aren't even a human being. You are a hollow, pathetic excuse for a man."
I signaled to my driver, who opened the door to my black Maybach.
"Enjoy your flightless, penniless life, Dominic," I said as I climbed into the back seat. "Because tomorrow morning, the federal marshals will be serving your arrest warrant for grand larceny and tax fraud."
May you like
I pulled the door closed. As the luxury sedan pulled away from the curb, I looked out the tinted window and saw Dominic falling to his knees on the sidewalk, burying his head in his hands as a hundred camera flashes illuminated his utter disgrace.
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