Chapter 13
The federal courthouse downtown was surrounded by media vans, satellite dishes, and dense throngs of journalists shouting over one another as Clara’s car pulled up to the secured entrance. Federal marshals formed a tight perimeter around her, shielding her from the flashing cameras and thrusting microphones as she walked up the grand stone steps.
Inside, the courtroom was packed to capacity. The air was cool and smelled of polished oak and old paper. Clara took her seat in the front row of the gallery, flanked by two legal aides and Arthur Vance.
Moments later, the side door swung open, and Julian and Elena were led into the room in handcuffs and orange jumpsuits. The contrast was staggering. Julian looked hollowed out, his beard unkempt, his eyes fixed on the floor as he shuffled toward the defense table. Elena, however, held her head high, her face flushed with defiant fury as her eyes swept across the gallery until they locked onto Clara.
Elena stopped walking for a fraction of a second, her teeth bared in that same feral snarl she had worn at the altar. A marshal nudged her forward sharply, forcing her into the seat beside her court-appointed defense attorney.
The bailiff’s voice boomed through the courtroom. “All rise for the Honorable Judge Katherine Sterling.”
Judge Sterling entered, her black robes sweeping behind her as she took her seat at the high mahogany bench. She adjusted her glasses, glanced down at the thick stack of federal indictments, and then raised her eyes to survey the room, letting her gaze rest for a long, steady moment on Clara in the front row.
“We are here for the arraignment of Julian Vance and Elena Vance on multiple counts of conspiracy, wire fraud, grand larceny, and attempted murder,” Judge Sterling announced, her voice clear, cold, and absolute. “How do the defendants plead?”
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Elena’s attorney stood up quickly, his face tight with tension. “Not guilty to all charges, Your Honor, and we intend to file an immediate motion to challenge the jurisdiction of these federal indictments based on procedural anomalies during the initial probate filing.”
Judge Sterling didn’t even blink. She looked directly at Elena, then across the aisle at Clara, whose dark, piercing gaze remained unyielding.
