Chapter 7 - THE AFTERMATH AND THE TRAPWithin twenty-four hours, the story broke the internet.
The video footage from my bathroom became the top trending topic globally. News channels picked up the story, dubbing it “The House of Cards Marriage.” The hypocrisy of Jocelyn’s fake charity and Gregory’s failed political career was mocked on every major daytime talk show.
Because of the overwhelming public outrage and the mountain of forensic evidence—including blood matches on the discarded drains and chemical analysis of the toilet plumbing which confirmed high doses of crushed narcotics—the judge denied bail for both Gregory and Jocelyn.
They were remanded to state custody pending trial.
Sitting in Ethan’s high-rise penthouse overlooking the city, I finally felt safe for the first time in six years. My medical treatments were fully resumed under the care of top-tier, compassionate oncologists. The reconstructive surgeons fixed the damage caused by the torn drains, and my prognosis was brighter than ever.
However, Ethan wasn't done.
Three weeks after the gala, Ethan entered the living room with a wicked grin on his face.
“They’re trying to take a plea deal,” Ethan said, sitting across from me.
“What kind of deal?” I asked, sipping my tea.
“Gregory’s lawyer is offering a full confession on the financial fraud if the prosecution drops the attempted murder and domestic torture charges down to misdemeanor assault,” Ethan explained. “They’re claiming Jocelyn was the mastermind and Gregory was just an obedient son acting under psychological pressure.”
I set my teacup down sharp onto the saucer. “He threw my drains away, Ethan. He told me to crawl out and mow the lawn while I was bleeding. He is just as guilty.”
“I know,” Ethan smiled. “And that’s why I set a little trap for them in jail.”
“What did you do?”
Ethan pulled out an audio recorder and pressed play.
“I had our legal team inform Gregory that if he testified against his mother, the state would drop all charges against him and allow him to keep two million dollars of the remaining assets.”
On the recording, Gregory’s voice filled the room. He didn't hesitate for a single second.
“I’ll do it!” Gregory’s voice squeaked desperately through the jail phone. “I’ll testify against her! She forced me to do it! She’s the one who flushed the pills! She told me if I didn't help her get Clara’s trust money, she’d cut me out of her will! Put it on paper, I’ll sign whatever you want! Send my mother to prison, just let me out!”
Ethan paused the recording, then hit play on a second file.
This one was a recording of Jocelyn, taken just one hour later after Ethan’s lawyer played Gregory’s confession to her.
Jocelyn’s shrill, terrifying voice blasted through the speaker:
“That ungrateful little coward!” Jocelyn screamed, hyperventilating with rage. “He was the one who suggested we tear her drains out! He wanted her dead more than I did because he owed six hundred thousand dollars to a loan shark in Vegas! I have all his texts! I have the recordings of him planning her 'accidental' death! Give me a deal, and I’ll give you enough evidence to put my son away for life!”
I stared at the recorder, a bitter smile spreading across my face.
They had turned on each other like wild, rabid dogs. Their precious, unbreakable bond of "family and faith" had shattered the moment their own survival was threatened.
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“They just doomed each other,” I whispered.
“Completely,” Ethan chuckled. “Neither of them gets a plea deal now. The prosecutor has double the evidence, straight from their own mouths.”
