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My Husband Stabbed Me Twice for the Woman He Never Got Over—Three Days Later, My Doctor Showed Him Our Twins / Chapter 9 / 20

Chapter 9 - The Verdict and the AshesTwo days later, the jury returned with their verdict after only two hours of deliberation.

The courtroom was dead silent.

"On Count 1: Premeditated Attempted First-Degree Murder," the jury foreman read, "we find the defendant, Evelyn Whitmore... GUILTY."

"On Count 2: Conspiracy to Commit Capital Murder... GUILTY." "On Count 3: First-Degree Murder in the death of Julian Thorne... GUILTY."

Evelyn stood rigid as the charges were read. She was sentenced to Life Imprisonment without the possibility of parole, plus 40 years.

Next was Reid Whitmore.

"On Count 1: Attempted Second-Degree Murder," the foreman read, "we find the defendant, Reid Whitmore... GUILTY." "On Count 2: Aggravated Assault with a Deadly Weapon... GUILTY."

Reid received 25 years in state prison. Because of the severity of the crime and the loss of the unborn children under the fetal protection act, he would serve at least twenty years before being eligible for parole.

Finally, Sloane Mercer was sentenced to 15 years in prison for her role as an accessory to conspiracy and evidence tampering.

As the guards stepped forward to chain Reid's wrists and ankles, he turned toward the gallery. He looked at me, his eyes swollen, tears running freely down his cheeks.

"Mara..." he whispered, his voice cracking. "I’m sorry... I’m so sorry..."

I stood up from my seat in the gallery. I looked him dead in the eye.

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The audio file on Marina’s phone was timestamped three minutes ago. Ignacio’s thumb hovered over the screen, trembling so violently he nearly dropped the device into the crib.

The audio file on Marina’s phone was timestamped three minutes ago. Igna...

The hangover hit Mateo like a freight train at sunrise. Sunlight filtered through the velvet curtains of the luxury hotel suite, burning his eyes. Beside him, Valeria was still asleep, smelling of cheap neon cocktails and expensive perfume. Mateo groaned, reaching for his phone on the nightstand.

The hangover hit Mateo like a freight train at sunrise. Sunlight filtere...

Isabella’s artificial tears gleamed under the soft golden chandeliers of the private VIP suite, her hands trembling with a performance worthy of a grand stage. She gestured wildly toward Khloe, who lay crumpled on the cold marble, her white silk dress torn and stained with drops of spilled champagne. Marcus stood frozen in the doorway,

Isabella’s artificial tears gleamed under the soft golden chandeliers of...

"I hope you think about our twins every single night when they lock your cell door, Reid," I said, my voice steady and firm. "Because that cell is where you belong."

Reid closed his eyes and began to sob as he was led away through the heavy steel door, his chains rattling with every step.

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