Chapter 6 - The Final Verdict
The courtroom was packed, the air thick with tension and the low murmurs of reporters. The downfall of a prominent Chicago CEO had attracted the local press, especially when the details of the secret billionaire heiress leaked.
I sat in the front row, wearing a tailored navy blue suit, my father by my side.
The side door opened, and Ethan was led in by two bailiffs. My breath hitched, but not out of fear. He looked entirely broken. He was wearing an oversized orange county jail jumpsuit, his wrists shackled in front of him. He had lost weight. His hair, usually slicked back with expensive product, was a greasy mess. He looked small. Pathetic.
When his eyes met mine across the courtroom, he quickly looked down at the floor, unable to hold my gaze.
The criminal trial was short. With the audio recordings, the financial forensic evidence showing his fraud, and his complete lack of competent legal counsel, his public defender had advised him to take a plea deal to avoid a potential twenty-year sentence.
The judge, a stern-faced woman who had zero patience for domestic abusers, looked down at Ethan with pure disgust.
"Ethan Walker," the judge's voice boomed through the silent room. "You have plead guilty to one count of aggravated domestic battery and two counts of wire fraud. You used your wife as a physical punching bag while simultaneously using her wealth to fund a lifestyle of arrogant excess. Your actions show a predatory, violent nature with absolutely zero remorse until you were caught."
Ethan kept his head bowed, his shoulders shaking as he silently cried. There was no one in the gallery for him. Beverly hadn't even shown up—she couldn't afford the bus ticket across town.
"I sentence you to seven years in a state penitentiary, without the possibility of early parole for the first five years," the judge declared, striking her gavel. "Furthermore, the divorce decree is finalized. You are ordered to pay complete restitution to Sterling Holdings, though seeing as you have zero assets, a permanent lien will be placed against any future income you ever generate. Officers, take him away."
As the bailiffs pulled Ethan to his feet, he stopped and looked at me one last time. Tears streamed down his hollow cheeks. "Emily," he mouthed, a silent, desperate plea for a forgiveness he would never receive.
May you like
I didn't smile. I didn't sneer. I simply looked at him with complete, utter indifference. I turned my head away, facing the judge, entirely erasing him from my existence.
He was dragged out of the courtroom, his wails echoing down the marble hallway until the heavy oak doors slammed shut.
