Chapter 9
The courtroom was packed.
I could feel the tension in the air, thick enough to cut with a knife.
Daniel sat at the defense table, his hands shaking.
The judge asked the jury foreman to stand.
“Has the jury reached a verdict?” the judge said.
“We have, Your Honor.”
“On the charge of aggravated assault of a pregnant woman, how do you find?”
“Guilty.”
A murmur went through the court.
“On the charge of conspiracy to commit murder?”
“Guilty.”
Daniel’s head fell into his hands.
“On the twelve counts of wire fraud and embezzlement?”
“Guilty. On all counts.”
The judge banged his gavel, calling for order.
I closed my eyes, tears running down my face.
Ethan squeezed my hand so tight I thought my fingers would break.
Ryan let out a breath he’d been holding for months.
Alexander was smiling, a cold, hard smile.
Sentencing was a week later.
The judge didn’t hold back.
He called Daniel’s crimes “monstrous,” “unforgivable,” “a betrayal of every trust a person can hold.”
He sentenced him to twenty-five years in federal prison.
No parole.
No early release.
Daniel would be in his sixties when he got out.
As the officers led him away, he looked at me.
For a second, I thought he’d say something.
Apologize.
Beg.
But he just stared.
Empty.
Broken.
Then he was gone.
Sophia was sentenced the next day.
Five years probation.
A thousand hours of community service working with domestic violence victims.
Two million dollars in restitution, to be paid to a fund for survivors of intimate partner violence, in my son’s name.
She looked at me as she left the courtroom.
“Thank you,” she mouthed.
I nodded.
It wasn’t forgiveness.
Not really.
But it was closure.
That afternoon, the judge signed the final divorce decree.
Daniel’s name was gone from mine.
All the assets he’d stolen from my family’s trust—money I hadn’t even known existed—were returned to me.
Plus half of what was left of his company.
I was a wealthy woman now.
But I didn’t care about the money.
I cared that it was over.
That Daniel was gone.
That my son was safe.
We walked out of the courthouse together.
Me, in the middle.
Ethan on my left.
Ryan on my right.
Alexander walking behind us, making sure no one got too close.
The sun was shining.
The sky was a bright, perfect blue.
Cameras flashed, but I didn’t flinch.
I held my head high.
I was free.
Truly, completely free.
That night, we had a small celebration at the house.
Just the four of us.
We grilled burgers in the backyard.
Alexander lit sparklers.
Ryan made a toast.
“To Liv,” he said, raising his glass. “The strongest person I know. To the baby. To family. To new beginnings.”
We clinked our glasses.
I looked at the three men who’d saved me.
Who’d loved me when I couldn’t love myself.
Who’d moved heaven and earth to bring me home.
May you like
“To us,” I said.
And for the first time in a very long time, I believed that everything was going to be okay.
