Chapter 8 - The Trial of the Century
Six months later, I walked into the grand courtroom for the final time.
Richard was representing himself, having fired three different lawyers because they told him to plead guilty.
He looked ten years older, his expensive hair dye grown out to reveal thinning, stark white hair.
His orange jumpsuit hung loosely on his frame, a stark contrast to his tailored suits.
Chloe sat at the prosecution's table in her own prison uniform, refusing to look in his direction.
When it was my turn to take the stand, I walked up confidently, locking eyes with the monster who raised me.
The prosecutor asked me to recount the events of that evening in excruciating detail.
I spoke loudly and clearly, making sure every juror felt the terror I had experienced in that pool.
“He held me by my throat,” I told the jury, my voice echoing in the silent room.
“He told me that if my son couldn't survive, he didn't deserve to live.”
Richard stood up, his face twisted in desperate rage.
“She’s lying! She’s always been jealous of Chloe! She set us up!” he screamed at the judge.
The judge banged her gavel hard.
“One more outburst, Mr. Sterling, and I will have you gagged for the remainder of this trial!”
The jury watched him completely unravel, seeing the true, violent narcissist beneath the billionaire facade.
When Chloe took the stand against him, she cried her fake tears, but the jury saw right through her.
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She detailed the entire plot, throwing her father entirely under the bus to secure her plea deal.
By the time closing arguments finished, the verdict was merely a formality.
