Chapter Ten: The Trial Begins
Nathan’s trial began seven months after the raid.
The charges included financial fraud, money laundering, conspiracy, obstruction of justice, unlawful imprisonment and assault.
Celeste faced many of the same financial charges, along with conspiracy related to Blackridge operations.
She had accepted a cooperation agreement.
Nathan had not.
His defense team portrayed him as a successful executive deceived by two calculating women.
Celeste, they argued, had seduced him into crime.
I had supposedly hidden my family identity in order to seize his company.
The newspapers called it the Ashford War.
Crowds gathered outside the courthouse every morning.
Some supported me.
Others believed I had orchestrated Nathan’s downfall for money.
The truth mattered less to them than spectacle.
On the fourth day, I took the stand.
Nathan sat beside his attorneys in a dark suit.
He had regained some of his old appearance.
Not his power.
The prosecutor asked me to describe the months leading up to the raid.
I spoke clearly.
The first shove.
The financial discoveries.
The hidden accounts.
The threats.
The pendant.
Then the courtroom heard Nathan’s voice.
“There. Now maybe you’ll remember your place.”
No one moved.
Celeste’s voice followed.
“That was one ninety-eight. You skipped two.”
Nathan stared at the table.
The prosecutor stopped the recording before the rest played.
The silence afterward was heavier than any sound.
Nathan’s attorney approached me.
“Mrs. Ashford—”
“Ms. Vale.”
“Ms. Vale, you secretly recorded your husband for months.”
“Yes.”
“You deceived him.”
“I documented him.”
“You remained in the marriage while gathering evidence.”
“Yes.”
“Because you wanted control of Ashford Global.”
“No.”
“You contributed money to the company.”
“Money he took under false pretenses.”
“And now the company may be sold to a consortium connected to your father.”
“That proposal was withdrawn before trial.”
The attorney paused.
He had not expected that.
I continued.
“I gave up every claim to Ashford Global beyond the return of my stolen assets and court-approved compensation.”
Nathan looked at me sharply.
He had believed I wanted his empire.
He could not understand that I wanted freedom more.
His attorney changed direction.
“You could have left.”
The prosecutor objected.
The judge allowed the question.
I looked directly at the jury.
“Yes,” I said. “I could have tried.”
“Yet you stayed.”
“I stayed because he controlled the house, the staff, the accounts and the story everyone heard about me. I stayed because I needed proof. And I stayed because leaving a dangerous person is not always as simple as walking through a door.”
The courtroom became silent again.
May you like
Nathan’s attorney returned to his table.
For once, there was nothing left to twist.
