Chapter 5 - The Trial of the CenturyThe courtroom of the Federal District of Guadalajara was packed to absolute capacity. Media outlets from across the nation had converged on the steps, fighting for a glimpse inside.
The trial had been fast-tracked due to the overwhelming digital evidence—Nora’s live-streamed video had become the most-watched piece of footage in the country’s history, sparking nationwide protests against domestic abuse.
When the bailiff called the court to order, Raúl, Rebeca, and Sebastián were led in wearing orange jumpsuits.
Gone were the arrogant smirks, the expensive clothes, and the haughty postures. Raúl looked ten years older, his back permanently curved under the weight of his humiliation. Rebeca kept her face buried in her hands, weeping uncontrollably.
And Sebastián... Sebastián looked like a ghost.
His arm was still in a sling, his face bore the marks of prison fights he had already lost during pre-trial detention, and his eyes darted nervously around the room.
When he caught sight of the prosecution table, he stopped dead in his tracks.
Sitting there, flanked by a row of the country’s most elite attorneys, was Camila.
She wore an immaculate ivory silk dress, her pregnancy beautifully visible, her posture straight, elegant, and radiating absolute power. She wasn't the broken, bruised woman crawling on a kitchen tile anymore. She was the rightful heir to the Silva empire, a queen reclaiming her throne.
Sebastián’s mouth opened in a silent plea, but as Camila turned her head and looked right through him as if he were made of glass, his spirit completely shattered.
The judge, a stern-faced woman with decades of experience, slammed her gavel down.
“We are here to hear the verdict in the case of The State versus Sebastián Cárdenas, Raúl Cárdenas, and Rebeca Cárdenas,” the judge announced, her voice echoing through the silent courtroom.
She picked up a document, adjusted her glasses, and began to read.
“The court has reviewed all physical evidence, medical records, financial audits, and the unedited digital footage recorded on the morning of May 14th. The depravity, cruelty, and systematic abuse documented in this case represent a severe violation of human dignity and the law.”
Rebeca let out a loud, pathetic whimper.
“For the charges of aggravated domestic assault, conspiracy, extortion, and human rights violations,” the judge continued, “this court sentences Raúl Cárdenas to fifteen years in a federal penitentiary without the possibility of parole.”
Raúl slumped forward, his head hitting the defense table with a dull thud.
“For the charges of continuous physical abuse, coercion, and attempted grievous bodily harm,” the judge turned her gaze directly to Sebastián, “Sebastián Cárdenas, you are sentenced to twenty-five years in maximum-security confinement.”
Sebastián let out a choked scream, lunging toward the edge of the defendant's box. “No! No, wait! She’s my wife! She can’t do this! Camila, please! Please have mercy!”
Two bailiffs instantly tackled him, pinning him to the floor as he thrashed and wept like a child.
“Order in the court!” the judge shouted, slamming her gavel twice. “Furthermore, all remaining Cárdenas assets are hereby permanently forfeited to the victims’ compensation fund and the Silva Foundation.”
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As Sebastián was dragged out of the courtroom, kicking and screaming his lungs out, Camila didn’t even flinch. She simply picked up a silver pen, signed the final divorce decree sitting on her table, and handed it to Valeria.
It was over. The nightmare was dead and buried.
