CHAPTER 109: THE TRIAL

~Layla~

"Did you sleep alright?" Axel asked as I entered the kitchen. He was pouring coffee into two mugs, looked up at me with a friendly smile, and handed one mug over.

"Better than expected," I said, taking a sip. The warmth spread through me, chasing away the lingering fog. "What’s the plan today?"

"Court prep," he replied, his tone shifting to business. "The hearing’s tomorrow, so we need to go over everything with the team."

We spent the day in the living room, laptops open and files spread across the coffee table. Our lawyers joined via video call, walking us through the evidence step by step.

"The bugs Erica planted give us solid proof of corporate espionage," our lead attorney, Mr Brennan, said. "Combined with the fabricated videos Cassandra leaked and the financial trails showing her sabotage of Eclipse Beauty, we have a clear pattern of deliberate harassment."

"We’ve got solid forensics on the deepfakes," another lawyer added. "The metadata shows they were created using specific software traced back to an IP address outside the country. Though not linked to her... it discredits the video."

Axel nodded, his hand occasionally brushing mine under the table. "What about the car accident? That’s her weakest point; the dashcam footage shows her ramming us deliberately."

Mr Brennan leaned forward on the screen. "We’ll lead with that. It’s premeditated assault with a deadly weapon, in this case, her vehicle. Their side will try to spin it as an accident, but the video doesn’t lie. The angle, the speed, the deliberate swerve into your lane... it’s all there."

"What witnesses do we have?" I asked.

"Three independent motorists who saw the incident. All are willing to testify that Cassandra’s actions appeared intentional. Plus, the police report corroborates your account."

By evening, my head throbbed from the details, but I felt prepared. Axel pulled me onto the couch as the calls ended, his arm around my shoulders.

"You ready for this?"

"As ready as I’ll ever be," I admitted, leaning into him. "Cassandra’s going down."

He kissed my temple softly. "She is. Together."

We fell asleep like that, tangled on the couch.

—

The next morning, we got to the courthouse early, and it was already buzzing with activity. Reporters were everywhere, snapping photos and shouting questions. Security helped us navigate through the crowd.

Axel held my hand tight as we walked. "Together, remember?"

"Together," I echoed.

Inside, the courtroom filled quickly with spectators, journalists, and court staff. The air felt thick with anticipation.

Cassandra entered with Charles and their lawyer, Harlan Reed, a sharp-faced man in an expensive suit. Her smirk when she saw me made my blood boil, but I kept my expression neutral.

The judge, an older woman with steel-grey hair and sharp eyes, entered. We all stood.

"Be seated," Judge Margaret Thornton said, banging her gavel. "Case number 24-CR-8907, Layla O’Brien versus Cassandra Watson Hart. We’re here for the preliminary hearing on multiple charges. Counsel, proceed with opening statements."

Brennan stood. "Your Honor, the evidence will show that Ms. Watson engaged in a calculated campaign to destroy my client, Layla O’Brien. This includes attempted assault with a deadly weapon, reckless endangerment, defamation, corporate espionage, and intentional infliction of emotional distress."

Harlan Reed rose smoothly. "Your Honor, what the prosecution calls a ’calculated campaign’ is nothing more than a tragic series of misunderstandings between sisters. A family dispute blown out of proportion by Mrs. O’Brien’s vendetta against my client."

"We’ll let the evidence speak," Judge Thornton said. "Prosecution, present your case."

"I call for the court to review exhibit A, which is a dashcam footage from the night of October 8th."

The bailiff set up the projection screen. The courtroom fell silent as the video played. There it was, clear as day: Cassandra’s car accelerating, veering sharply into our lane, the sickening impact that sent us spinning.

"As you can see, Your Honor," Brennan continued, "this was no accident. The defendant’s vehicle deliberately struck my clients’ car with clear intent to cause harm."

Murmurs rippled through the gallery. I felt Axel’s hand tighten on mine.

Harlan stood, his expression sympathetic rather than aggressive. "Objection, Your Honor. That’s speculation. The footage shows a collision, yes, but intent is being assumed without considering alternative explanations."

"Overruled," Judge Thornton said. "The prosecution is presenting their interpretation. You’ll have your turn, counsel."

"Thank you, Your Honor. Moving on to exhibit B..." Brennan pulled up screenshots of the fabricated videos. "These deepfake videos were created and distributed by the defendant to damage Mrs. O’Brien’s business reputation and personal character."

"Objection," Harlan called out. "There’s no direct evidence linking my client to those videos."

"Your Honor, the forensic analysis shows the videos originated from an IP address in this city but distributed by someone else in a different country, who’s likely tied to the defendant. And though no proof of that, it shows it was tampered with."

"I’ll allow it," Judge Thornton ruled. "Continue."

Brenna went through each piece of evidence methodically: the listening devices found in Axel’s home, the financial records showing Cassandra’s attempts to sabotage Eclipse Beauty, and witness statements about her threats..

"The charges we’re bringing forward are as follows," Brennan concluded. "First, attempted assault with a deadly weapon for the vehicular attack. Second, reckless endangerment of both Mr. and Mrs. O’Brien. Third, defamation through the distribution of false videos. Fourth, corporate espionage via the planted surveillance devices and attempted data breach. And fifth, intentional infliction of emotional distress through a sustained campaign of harassment."

Judge Thornton made notes. "Defense, your response?"

Harlan stood, and his entire demeanor shifted to one of deep sympathy. "Your Honor, ladies and gentlemen, what we have here is a tragedy. A family torn apart by jealousy, misunderstanding, and pain."

He walked toward the bench slowly. "My client, Cassandra Watson, loved her sister. Still loves her, despite everything. But when Mrs. O’Brien married into wealth and power, something changed. The dynamic shifted, and my client found herself pushed aside, forgotten."

"Objection," our lawyer said. "Relevance?"

"I’m establishing motive, Your Honor. Not my client’s motive, but Mrs. O’Brien’s."

"Tread carefully, counsel," Judge Thornton warned. "But I’ll allow it."

"Thank you. Now, about this dashcam footage that supposedly shows ’clear intent.’" Harlan pulled up the video again, pausing at key frames. "What the prosecution calls deliberate acceleration could just as easily be interpreted as panic. My client’s brakes failed that day. She wasn’t trying to hit anyone, if anything, she was trying desperately to stop and couldn’t."

"What?!" I blurted out before I could stop myself.