I was innocent, not guilty.
And after today, I would be free for the rest of my goddamn life.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Elle
I WASN’T ON trial, but I’d never been so terribly nervous.
The jurors sat in their little tiered stands glowering at Larry as he sat proudly beside Penn. Dad had argued with me not to be seen at the trial. That it would be bad PR for Belle Elle.
I’d hugged him and told him I loved him then told him—in the nicest possible way—that he couldn’t stop me from being there for Penn, and he might as well get over it.
I loved Penn.
I was here for Penn.
I loved my company too, but if he forced me to choose...well, it was probably best not to make me.
I stared at the back of Penn’s head from where I sat in the rows designated for family. The courtroom was basic in its build with harsh wooden barricades and pews. The bench I sat on had already flattened my ass, and we hadn’t even started yet.
Fleur crossed her legs beside me, reaching for my hand as a door banged loudly and hate filled my heart instead of love.
Greg.
He marched with playboy grace, dressed in a similar looking suit to Penn. He didn’t make eye contact with anyone, keeping his nose high and arrogance wrapped tight around him.
He followed the guard escorting him until they stopped at an identical table next to Penn and Larry, holding out his hands to be uncuffed.
While the officer freed him, tucking the silver handcuffs back onto his belt, Greg’s lawyer placed her satchel on the desk and pulled out documents relating to today.
I disliked her immediately.
Not because she represented my nemesis but because she was a hardnosed woman with hair tied so tight, her eyes turned cat-like with red lipstick smeared like blood across her mouth.
She looked like a weasel who wasn’t afraid to fight dirty and tear off a few body parts to win.
Sharing a few whispered words with his lawyer, Greg took his seat, his gaze catching mine.
He flinched before straightening his shoulders and giving me a smirk. He waved a little, mouthing, “Hi, Elle,” before his lawyer grabbed his shoulder and spun him to face the front.
I wanted to leap over the small wooden wall separating witnesses from accused and wring his damn neck. Not for what he’d done to me but for what he’d done to Penn.
Another door banged, and a judge arrived, climbing up to his podium in a regal robe. His black attire made my heart hammer.
“All rise for honorable Patrick Blake.”
The court rose as one.
There weren’t many people here—mainly court appointed reporters and the odd colleague from Belle Elle being nosy rather than supportive. I was glad and disappointed that the pews weren’t full of people waiting to hear the truth. Glad because what if we all failed? What if the long nights of research and evidence gathering wouldn’t be enough to save Penn from this bullshit charge? And disappointed because what if we did and he walked out of here a free man? No one would see honesty win over corruption or know how hard the battle had been.
The victory of winning over men who believed they were better than everyone would be so, so sweet but the failure would be so, so bitter.
“You may be seated.”
The court sat in perfect synchronicity.
I stroked my somber suit, hoping the all black affair would grant me strength. I wished I had something of Penn’s—a trinket or keepsake to clutch and give me hope.
Not for the first time, I thought about my sapphire star and how much was now tied to that silly piece of jewelry. It had my dad’s love imbedded in it. It had Penn’s rescue and then subsequently his lies swimming in the blue gemstone.
And now, even though it wasn’t mine anymore, and Stewie had refused to part with it, it bore witness to this thanks to the kid himself sitting beside me, his tiny fists tight in his lap; a look of utmost concentration on his face.
He was my keepsake.
Over the past few months, I’d learned to truly like Stewie. He was rough around the edges thanks to his prior years of running wild with his reckless older brother, but there was a sweetness too. He adored Sage and couldn’t stop petting her when I took her with me to help Larry research.
Unraveling my fear-sweaty locked-together fingers, I wiped them on my black skirt then took Stewie’s small hand in mine.
He jumped, so focused on watching Penn and Larry as they bent to talk in hushed whispers in front of us.
I smiled, hiding my nerves, granting him some courage at the expense of my own. “It will be fine. You’ll see.”
His throat worked as he swallowed. He didn’t nod, merely turned his gaze back to the two men who’d saved him from a life of homelessness and settled in for the longest day of our lives.
“Truth will prevail, Elle.” Fleur leaned close. “That creep Greg can’t get away with this—”
“Today, we have Penn Everett versus Greg Hobson,” the court officer said loudly, narrowing his eyes at us lowly supporters. “Please remain silent. No outbursts will be permitted. No interruptions of any kind or you will be asked to leave.”
When everyone hushed, the officer nodded at the judge. “Ready to begin.”
The twelve jurors sat tall with importance with a rustle of clothing and murmurs of voices.
The rest of the court settled to watch, wound with tension, stiff with hope, wishing for a quick and fair verdict.
*
Recess.
How could there be such a thing?
I didn’t want coffee and cake when the life of the man I loved hung in an uncertain balance.
For the past hour, opening statements had been delivered. Greg’s lawyer went first, prancing around in knife-sharp stilettos, speaking to the jury as if they were dimwitted barn animals.
According to her, Greg had been mentally abused in his childhood. He’d been brainwashed by his father to believe he would end up marrying me and inheriting it all. When he wanted to travel the world after he finished college, he claimed his dad told him not to go. Otherwise, another man might steal our arrangement and my heart.
I burned through so many calories sitting through such filth.
Steve was a good man, and if he’d lied to his son about winning my hand, then I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did. But I had a sneaking suspicion if he was here, he’d be as mortified as I was about the lies Greg spread.
Greg painted a picture of a tireless worker who would do anything for Belle Elle, but in the same breath, he came across as a brokenhearted lover who only wanted a second chance with me away from the influences of the company.
He claimed I went with him willingly.
That I wore chains and let him hit me all because I wanted what he had to offer. I wanted to be with him because that sort of thing turned me on.