Chapter 13 - The Voice on the Tape
Claire Montgomery stepped to the clerk’s desk and connected the digital drive to the courtroom audio system.
The speaker crackled, and then Adrian's voice filled the high-ceilinged room.
His tone was sharp, cruel, and completely devoid of the polished charm he presented to the media.
"You think anyone is going to believe you, Elena?" Adrian’s recorded voice sneered over the speaker.
"You're nobody."
"You're a ghost living on your dead father's money."
"I am the face of this city’s infrastructure."
"The mayor takes my calls."
"The governor knows my name."
A woman's quiet voice answered—my voice, calm and unyielding.
"This is our home, Adrian."
"The boys are sleeping upstairs."
"Not for long," Adrian’s voice barked back.
"Paige has already picked out their school in Geneva."
"You'll get supervised visitation twice a year if you sign the settlement without making a fuss."
"If you fight me, I will spend ten million dollars burying you in court until you have nothing left."
"I will tell the press you're an addict."
"I will tell the judge you neglected them."
"You will lose your children, Elena, and you will leave this marriage with the clothes on your back."
The recording ended with the heavy sound of a door slamming and the quiet, terrified sobs of our twin boys echoing in the background hallway.
The courtroom was dead silent.
Judge Calder took off his glasses and set them on the bench with deliberate, trembling fury.
He looked down at Adrian Hollis.
Adrian would not meet his gaze.
He stared at his own hands, his face pale, his breath shallow.
"Mr. Hollis," Judge Calder said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, icy whisper.
"In my thirty-two years on the bench, I have rarely witnessed such callous, predatory malice directed at one's own flesh and blood."
"You used your children as leverage in a financial shakedown."
"You threatened to dismantle their emotional lives to protect money that did not even belong to you."
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Barnes sank lower in his chair, keeping his hands flat on the desk, completely abandoning any pretense of defending his client.
The trap Adrian had spent two years designing had snapped shut around his own neck.
