Chapter 13
As winter gave way to early spring, the legal proceedings against Marcus Vance reached their final phase. The trial was scheduled to begin in a federal courtroom downtown, drawing moderate media attention, though it lacked the sensationalist tabloid frenzy Marcus had originally planned to ignite.
Elena received the subpoena in her office. She stared at the thick white envelope for a long time, feeling a familiar tightness in her chest, but the panic of the past was entirely absent. The fear had been replaced by a quiet, resolute calm.
She wasn't going to hide, and she wasn't going to let anyone else speak for her.
Julian walked into her office just as she was sliding the subpoena back into its folder. He took one look at her face and nodded approvingly. "The prosecution has requested your testimony for the opening day. Do you need me to accompany you to the stand?"
"No," Elena said, looking up with steady, clear eyes. "I can stand on my own this time. I don't need bodyguards or corporate shields to tell the truth."
"Good," Julian replied, a rare, genuine smile touching the corners of his mouth. "Because the truth is the one thing Marcus never factored into his algorithms."
On the morning of the trial, the courthouse steps were crowded with journalists and camera crews, but there was no screaming, no chaotic shoving, and no dramatic confrontations. Elena stepped out of the black sedan wearing a simple, elegant navy blue coat, her dark hair neatly pinned back in a classic updo. She walked up the stone steps with measured, graceful strides, acknowledging the cameras with a calm, unblinking composure that commanded immediate respect.
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Inside the courtroom, the benches were packed with legal observers, corporate representatives, and journalists eager to document the fall of a once-untouchable elite.
Marcus sat at the defense table, flanked by two high-priced attorneys. He looked pale, his suit hanging slightly loose on his frame, the confident arrogance that had once defined him completely stripped away by months of legal isolation and public disgrace. When Elena walked down the center aisle, he refused to meet her gaze, staring down at the polished wooden table instead.
