Chapter 15 - The Federal Courthouse Showdown
Monday morning arrived with a torrential downpour that lashed sheets of rain against the windshield of our old Ford pickup truck as we navigated the slick downtown streets of Portland.
The federal courthouse loomed ahead of us—a massive, imposing monolith of neoclassical stone and towering granite pillars, framed by grey skies and a swarm of local news reporters holding cameras and boom microphones. Word had somehow leaked to the financial press that Damon Prescott, the elusive tech billionaire who had vanished from Wall Street six months ago, was about to make a surprise appearance in a federal courtroom.
As we pulled up to the security barricades, flashbulbs began popping like lightning storms against our windows.
Luke and Violet were safely back at home with Cassandra’s sister, but the tension inside the truck was thick enough to cut with a knife.
"Ready?" Cassandra asked, turning from the passenger seat to look at me, her hand resting firmly over mine.
I looked down at her fingers, then out at the sea of ravenous reporters outside. For the first time in my life, I didn't feel the crushing weight of ambition or the cold dread of failure. I felt completely, unshakably grounded.
"Let's go end this," I said.
We stepped out into the pouring rain, Arthur Pendelton leading the way with an umbrella. We marched straight up the granite steps, ignoring the shouted questions of journalists barking my name.
“Mr. Prescott! Are you returning to Prescott Technologies? Is the merger back on?”
“Cassandra Hayes! Who is the woman accompanying Mr. Prescott?”
We didn't answer a single word. We pushed through the heavy oak doors of the courthouse, swept through metal detectors, and walked down the long, echoing marble corridor toward Courtroom 4B.
When we stepped inside the courtroom, the atmosphere was already electric.
Marcus Vance was sitting at the plaintiff’s counsel table, flanked by two high-priced corporate attorneys from New York in charcoal-gray suits. When Marcus turned around and saw me walking in beside Cassandra and Arthur, his smug, confident expression instantly fractured into absolute horror.
He hadn't expected us to fight back. He had expected me to fold like a cheap suit, just like I had done a thousand times before in the corporate world.
"All rise," the bailiff’s booming voice echoed through the wood-paneled room.
Judge Robert Vance—no relation to Marcus, thankfully—stepped up onto the dais, adjusted his spectacles, and scanned the courtroom before fixing his stern gaze upon us.
"Counsel," the judge announced, his voice dry and commanding. "I understand we have an emergency injunction filing regarding Prescott Technologies and alleged financial improprieties. State your appearances."
May you like
Arthur Pendelton stood up smoothly, buttoning his jacket. "May it please the court, Arthur Pendelton representing the respondents, Damon Prescott and Cassandra Hayes. Your Honor, we are here today not to answer false allegations of fraud, but to file a countersuit for criminal extortion, corporate blackmail, and securities tampering against Mr. Marcus Vance and Calder Acquisitions."
Pandemonium instantly erupted in the courtroom gallery.
