The tiny blip on the screen flickered, racing at twice the speed of an adult pulse. But it wasn't the single heartbeat that made Dr. Evelyn Vance freeze; it was the second, faint shadow rhythmically pulsing right beside it. / Chapter 9 / 18

Chapter 9 - The Trial of the CenturyThe courtroom of the Cook County Criminal Courthouse was packed to the gills. Reporters spilled out into the hallways, cameras flashed relentlessly, and the gallery murmured like a restless ocean.

At the defense table sat Dante Moretti, flanked by two high-priced defense attorneys who looked like they were sweating through their bespoke suits. Across the aisle sat federal prosecutors alongside Alistair Vance—and me, sitting proudly at the plaintiff’s table in a tailored cream-colored pantsuit, wearing dark sunglasses that hid my eyes.

The presiding judge, Judge Harrison, banged his gavel. "Order! Order in the court!"

The murmurs died down.

"We are here today to hear arguments on the federal indictment of Dante Moretti, charged with racketeering, financial fraud, and corporate conspiracy," Judge Harrison announced, peering over his spectacles at Dante. "Mr. Moretti’s defense has filed a motion to dismiss, claiming lack of verifiable primary evidence regarding the offshore accounts."

Dante’s lead attorney stood up smoothly. "Your Honor, the prosecution's primary witness is a disgruntled former CFO, and the encrypted files provided lack a proper chain of custody. We move for immediate dismissal."

Judge Harrison turned his gaze toward the prosecution bench. "Counsel?"

I stood up before Alistair could speak.

Gasps rippled through the courtroom. Reporters scrambled to capture the moment. I walked slowly to the center aisle, removing my sunglasses so the entire room—and the live camera feeds broadcasting across the nation—could see the cold, unyielding fire in my eyes.

"Your Honor," I said, my voice clear, steady, and echoing off the marble walls. "The defense claims a broken chain of custody. They claim the encrypted files are inadmissible." I pulled a small, silver micro-drive from my pocket and held it up. "I am Lena Moretti. And I am the person who authored those files, encrypted them, and backed them up on my personal cloud server every single night while my husband plotted murders from his executive office."

Dante shot up from his chair, slamming his hands on the table. "Lena, you bitch! You don't know what you're doing!"

"Bailiff, restrain the defendant!" Judge Harrison ordered sharply.

Two bailiffs grabbed Dante by the shoulders, forcing him back down into his seat as he glared at me with pure, unadulterated murderous rage.

"Furthermore, Your Honor," I continued, turning to face the judge directly, "I have one final piece of evidence to submit into the permanent public record. A document detailing not just corporate crimes, but the attempted assassination of Julian Vance five years ago—signed by Dante Moretti himself."

The courtroom erupted into total chaos. Cameras flashed blindingly, reporters shouted questions, and Dante’s face turned the color of ash.

Julian Vance stepped out from the gallery, walking slowly down the center aisle, removing his jacket to reveal his face clearly to the entire assembly.