Chapter 8 - The Cornered Wolf
The federal court building in downtown Dallas was a fortress of limestone and security glass. The trial of Isabella Rossi and Victoria Thorne had become an international sensation, with journalists from London, New York, and Mexico City filling the gallery benches to capacity.
Victoria Thorne sat at the defense table, her navy blue designer suit looking slightly too big for her now. The weeks spent in a federal holding facility without her usual team of maids and stylists had taken a heavy toll; her silver hair was streaked with gray, and her eyes held the frantic, desperate look of a cornered animal.
Isabella sat beside her, her head bowed, her expensive red dress replaced by a plain, drab green prison jumpsuit. Her father’s arrest had completely stripped her of her legal shield; the high-powered attorneys who were supposed to save her had dropped the case the moment the Rossi shipping assets were seized by the government.
Marcus sat in the front row of the gallery, his hand holding Khloe’s tightly. Khloe wore a simple black dress, her hair pulled back into a neat bun, her expression calm and unreadable.
The prosecution called their star witness: Elena.
When the digital recording of Victoria and Isabella planning the forced miscarriage was played through the courtroom speakers, a heavy, horrified silence fell over the room. One of the female jurors covered her mouth with her hand, looking at Victoria with open revulsion.
Victoria’s defense attorney stood up, his voice lacking any real conviction. "Your Honor, this recording was obtained without a warrant. It is inadmissible under Texas privacy laws."
"This is a federal conspiracy and racketeering trial, counselor," the judge barked, his eyes glaring down from the bench. "The witness has testified she left the recording device in her own workspace voluntarily. The objection is overruled. Sit down."
Marcus looked over at his mother. For a brief second, Victoria’s gaze shifted to him. She didn't look remorseful; she looked angry—furious that the son she had raised to be a corporate tool had used her own tactics to destroy her.
Marcus didn't turn away. He looked at her with a flat, cold indifference that was more brutal than any insult. He had spent his entire life trying to live up to the standard his parents had set, trying to save a company that was rotten to the core. But looking at the woman who had tried to murder his unborn son, he felt nothing but a profound sense of clean, unburdened relief.
The jury didn't even require a full hour to deliberate.
Guilty on all counts. Conspiracy to commit corporate fraud, human rights violations via international trafficking networks, and aggravated assault resulting in the premature termination of a pregnancy term.
The judge didn't hold back during sentencing. "Victoria Thorne, you have used your immense wealth not to build up your community, but to destroy the very concept of family. You are sentenced to twenty-five years at the Federal Correctional Institution in Fort Worth, without the possibility of early release."
Isabella received twenty years at the same facility, her dreams of high-society dominance completely reduced to a number on a prison registry.
May you like
As the bailiffs led them away through the rear doors, Victoria let out a sharp, ragged scream. "Marcus! You can't do this to me! I made you! You are a Thorne!"
Marcus stood up, helping Khloe into her coat. He didn't look back at the shouting. "Let's go home, Khloe," he said softly. "Liam is waiting for us."
