CHAPTER 149: DIE IN PRISON

~LAYLA~

Saturday, 9 AM sharp.

The courtroom felt different today. There were no reporters buzzing around and no onlookers filling the seats. It was just us, the lawyers and the defendants. The atmosphere was thick with tension, like we were all waiting for something big to happen.

Judge Reynolds entered, her black robe sweeping behind her. Everyone stood automatically.

"Be seated," she commanded, taking her place at the bench. "We are here for the sentencing phase. The court has reviewed pre-sentence reports, victim impact statements, and the new fraud evidence presented yesterday."

She arranged papers before her with methodical precision, then looked up. Her gaze fixed on Cassandra, who sat pale and trembling at the defence table.

"Cassandra Watson Hart, please rise."

Cassandra stood on shaking legs, Charles gripping her elbow to steady her. Her carefully styled appearance from previous court dates was gone; her hair now hung loosely, and her makeup was streaked from the tears she’d been crying.

Judge Reynolds’ voice rang out.

"On the count of corporate espionage, twenty-five years in federal prison."

Cassandra’s knees buckled slightly.

"On the count of defamation, fifteen years in federal prison."

A sob escaped her throat.

"On the count of assault with a deadly weapon, twenty years in federal prison."

"Please," Cassandra whispered, but Judge Reynolds ignored her and continued.

"On the count of fraud conspiracy, specifically the induced miscarriage, thirty years in federal prison."

Reynolds paused, letting the weight of the numbers settle over the courtroom. The silence was deafening.

"All sentences to run consecutively, not concurrently. Total sentence: ninety years, with hard labour in a federal maximum-security facility. You will have no parole eligibility. Ever. Additionally, you are ordered to pay seventeen million dollars in restitution to Eclipse Beauty, payable immediately from your seized assets."

Cassandra let out a raw, desperate scream that sent shivers down my spine. "You can’t do this! I’ll die in there! I won’t even last half the time!"

"That," Reynolds said coldly, "is a consequence of your actions."

Bailiffs moved forward as Cassandra fought against them, her designer heels scraping against the floor. "No! No! This isn’t fair! This isn’t over! Do you hear me? This isn’t over!"

They pulled her towards the side door, and her screams could still be heard even after she was out of sight. Charles sat there, frozen in place. His face was expressionless, but his eyes were filled with anger.

Judge Reynolds turned her attention to Daniel. "Daniel Hart, please rise."

Daniel stood up carefully, his injuries still clearly visible. He seemed smaller now, almost as if he had lost some of his presence.

"For accessory after the fact, you are sentenced to eight years in federal prison. However, given your full cooperation and crucial testimony, this sentence is suspended. You will serve one thousand hours of community service instead, to be completed within two years."

Daniel’s shoulders sagged with relief. "Thank you, Your Honour."

"Don’t thank me, Mr. Hart. Consider yourself fortunate. Next."

"Erica Chen, please rise."

Erica stood, looking resigned.

"For conspiracy to commit corporate espionage, you are sentenced to twelve years in federal prison. Due to your cooperation and testimony, the sentence has been reduced to five years. Upon release, you will serve five years of supervised release. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Your Honour."

"Court is adjourned."

The gavel cracked one final time, and it was over.

I exhaled a breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding. Ninety years. Cassandra would be over a hundred years old before any parole board would even look at her case. She’d die in prison.

Axel’s hand found mine under the table, squeezing so hard it hurt, but I didn’t pull away. The pressure felt real, grounding.

Brennan leaned over. "Life sentence without calling it one. She’ll never see freedom again."

Standing outside the courthouse, the sunlight felt strange on my skin. It was too bright, too warm, and almost jarring after the cold, harsh reality of the courtroom.

"It’s done," I said to myself. "One part of my revenge is finally done."

Axel pulled me close, pressing his lips to my temple. "Tonight, we celebrate. Real date. No phones, no threats, no trial talk. Just us."

"That sounds perfect."

"I’m thinking that rooftop bistro you mentioned once. The one with the view."

"The one with the expensive wine list?"

"Money’s no object tonight. We’re celebrating."

We chose the rooftop bistro, and it was everything I’d imagined. Candles flickered on white tablecloths, city lights glittered like scattered diamonds below, and the warm night air wrapped around us like silk.

The waiter brought champagne, and we toasted to victory, to justice, to the future.

"To us," Axel said, his glass touching mine with a soft clink.

"To us," I echoed, and we drank.

For the first time in weeks, I laughed. Like really laughed, the kind that made my stomach hurt and my eyes water. Axel watched me with such tenderness that it made my chest ache.

Dessert arrived: a rich chocolate lava cake paired with vanilla bean ice cream. Axel took a bite and fed it to me, his eyes locked on mine. Then, he leaned in and gently kissed a bit of cream from my lip.

"I love you, Layla O’Brien."

I answered by pulling him closer, pressing my mouth to his in a kiss that tasted like chocolate and champagne and promise.

"I love you too," I whispered against his lips.

We paid and left, both of us wine-buzzed and feeling invincible. The night air was calm now, refreshing after the warmth of the restaurant.

"Walk?" Axel suggested, offering his arm.

"Where to?"

"There’s a park nearby. We can walk off some of this wine."

We strolled through the park hand in hand, the city sounds muted here, replaced by rustling leaves and distant laughter. String lights hung between trees, casting soft pools of light on the path.

"Thank you," I said suddenly.

"For what?"

"For standing by me. Through all of this. For loving me even when I pushed you away."

"Always, Layla. Always."

Midnight was approaching when my phone buzzed in my purse. I almost ignored it, not wanting to break the perfect bubble we’d created, but something made me check.

Unknown number.

My thumb hovered over the decline button, but curiosity got the better of me. I answered, bringing the phone to my ear.

"Hello?"

An unfamiliar male voice, with an accent I couldn’t place, spoke with chilling calm. "Mrs. Layla O’Brien?"

"Who is this?"

"My name is not important. What’s important is the ninety million dollars you stole from us, Mrs. O’Brien. We want it back."

My blood turned to ice. The wine buzz evaporated instantly, replaced by cold, creeping fear. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Don’t play games. The documents, the offshore accounts. We know everything. And we’re coming to collect."

The line went dead.

I stood frozen, the phone still pressed to my ear, the beautiful night suddenly feeling dark and threatening.

"Layla?" Axel’s voice seemed distant. "What’s wrong? Who was that?"

I looked up at him, my hand trembling. "The mafia. They say they want their money."