Disgraced Heir Returns

5: TRIAL

The news spread like wildfire.

"JILTED BRIDE FLEES COUNTRY ON WEDDING DAY"

"DAMIAN CROSS LEFT AT THE ALTAR"

"AURORA KANE: THE WOMAN WHO SAID NO TO A CRIMINAL"

Damian watched the headlines from his living room. The TV was on. The volume was low. But he could still hear every word.

She left him. Smart woman.

I would have done the same thing.

He deserves everything he's getting.

He turned off the TV. Stared at the blank screen.

The failed wedding was all anyone could talk about. Aurora was being praised as a hero. A woman who refused to marry a fraud. A woman who knew her worth.

But there were other voices too. Smaller. Quieter.

"Why did she wait until the wedding day?"

"If she knew he was guilty, why didn't she end it sooner?"

"Maybe she was in on it. Maybe she's just as guilty."

Damian read those comments. The ones that questioned Aurora. The ones that hinted at something darker.

Maybe they're right. Maybe she was never innocent.

But he pushed the thought away. It didn't matter now. Aurora was gone. His wedding was over. His reputation was destroyed.

And his trial was about to begin.

_____

The courthouse was packed.

Journalists filled every seat. Cameras lined the walls. The gallery was overflowing with spectators. Strangers. Vultures. All of them waiting to watch him fall.

Damian walked in with his lawyers. Greg was beside him. The young assistant's face was pale. His hands were shaking.

"Sir, we'll get through this," Greg whispered. "The evidence is weak. They don't have a solid case."

Damian nodded. But he didn't believe it.

The trial started. The prosecution called their first witness. A former employee. Someone Damian had trusted. Someone he had promoted.

The man stood in the witness box. His eyes were downcast. His voice was steady.

"I saw Mr. Cross moving money into offshore accounts. He did it late at night. He thought no one was watching."

The courtroom buzzed. Damian's lawyers objected. But the judge overruled them.

Greg leaned in. "He's lying. I know him. He would never—"

"He's being paid off," Damian said quietly. "Look at his suit. It's new. Expensive. He couldn't afford that on his salary."

Greg's eyes narrowed. "Viktor."

"Viktor."

The pattern continued. Witness after witness. All of them saying the same thing. All of them pointing at Damian.

"They're all being paid off," Greg hissed. "Every single one of them. I can prove it."

Damian looked at his assistant. "How?"

"I've been tracking their bank accounts. Some of them received large deposits right before the trial. From shell companies. The same shell companies that were used to frame you."

Damian's heart pounded. "Show the judge."

Greg's face fell. "I tried. He wouldn't even look at the evidence. He said it was irrelevant."

Damian closed his eyes.

The judge. He's in on it too.

_______

The trial dragged on for weeks.

Damian sat in the defendant's chair every day. His face was a mask. His body was stiff. But inside, he was screaming.

The media covered every moment. Every testimony. Every accusation.

"DISGRACED CEO'S TRIAL: DAY 10"

"NEW WITNESSES EMERGE IN CROSSTECH SCANDAL"

"DAMIAN CROSS'S DEFENSE FALLS APART"

Damian read the headlines. Watched the coverage. Heard the whispers.

He's guilty. He's always been guilty.

Look at him. Sitting there like he's innocent.

He's going to prison. Finally.

Greg tried to keep his spirits up. But it was getting harder. The young assistant was running on fumes. His eyes were bloodshot. His clothes were wrinkled.

"Sir, we need to find another angle," Greg said one night. They were in Damian's home office. The papers were spread everywhere. "The witnesses are all connected to Victor. There has to be a way to prove it."

Damian stared at the files. The pictures. The bank statements.

"There is," he said slowly. "But it's going to be dangerous."

"What do you mean?"

"I need to find Victor's connection to the judge. If I can prove the judge is corrupt, the whole trial falls apart."

Greg's face went pale. "Sir, that's impossible. The judge is untouchable. He's been on the bench for twenty years."

"Everyone has secrets, Greg. Everyone has something they want to hide."

Damian stood up. Walked to the window. The city was dark. The streets were empty.

"I need to find his secret. And I need to use it."

_____

The death threats started a week later.

At first, they were just words. Messages on his phone. Emails from anonymous accounts. Letters shoved under his door.

"You're dead, Cross."

"Rot in hell."

"Your blood will stain the streets."

Damian read each one. Then he deleted them. Burned them. He refused to show fear.

But then they became physical.

He walked outside one morning. His car was covered in red spray paint. The words were scrawled across the windshield: "DEATH TO THE FRAUD."

He stood there. Staring at the message. His heart was pounding. His hands were shaking.

But he didn't call the police- Not like the police would have an interest in helping him, after all he was being considered a criminal. He didn't tell anyone. He just cleaned it off. Went about his day.

The next week, a brick came through his window. It crashed into his living room. Shards of glass flew everywhere.

Damian stood in the middle of the chaos. The brick was wrapped in a note. He picked it up. Unfolded it.

"Next time, it'll be your head."

He read the words. Then he folded the note. Put it in his pocket.

They're trying to scare me. Trying to break me.

It won't work.

---

But the threats weren't the only things restricting his movement.

The federal agents had given him strict instructions. He couldn't leave the country. Couldn't make any major financial transactions. Couldn't even leave the state without notifying them.

He was a prisoner. In his own city. In his own life.

Greg visited him every day. Brought him food. Kept him updated.

"Sir, I found something," Greg said one afternoon. "The shell companies that were used to pay off the witnesses. They're all connected to Hartwell. I have proof. Real proof."

Damian looked at the files. The bank statements. The transactions.

"Who have you shown this to?"

"Only you. I don't trust anyone else."

"Good. Keep it safe. We'll use it when the time is right."

Greg nodded. But his face was full of worry.

"Sir, what are you going to do? The trial is almost over. The verdict is coming. They're going to convict you. I know it."

Damian looked at his assistant. The young man who had never given up on him. The only person who still believed.

"I'm going to win," Damian said. His voice was cold. Steady. "I'm going to make sure Viktor pays for what he has done. I am going to find his weakness. And I'm going to destroy him."

"But how? You can't even leave the house."

Damian smiled. It was dark. Dangerous.

"I don't need to leave the house, Greg. I have something better."

He walked to his computer. The screens flickered to life.

"I have the internet. And I have time. That's all I need."