Chapter 6
Three days later, the arraignment hearing for Julian and Beatrice Vance packed the Manhattan federal courtroom to capacity. Flashbulbs blinded the defendants as federal marshals escorted them through the media circus into the gallery.
Julian wore a rumpled grey jumpsuit, his hair unbrushed and his face gaunt from days of sleepless panic. Beatrice walked behind him with her head bowed low, hiding her tear-streaked face from the flashing camera lenses.
Judge Miller sat behind the massive mahogany bench, his expression stern and unyielding as he reviewed the case files. "Mr. Vance, Mrs. Vance, you stand accused of multi-million dollar wire fraud, tax evasion, and domestic abuse," Judge Miller read.
Defense attorneys stood up frantically, attempting to argue procedural technicalities regarding the legality of the asset seizures. "Your Honor, the searches conducted by federal agents violated our clients' Fourth Amendment constitutional rights," the lawyer argued.
Prosecutor Harrison stepped forward, sliding a certified Department of Defense waiver across the judge's desk. "The searches were authorized under national security provisions due to compromised defense contracts," Harrison countered smoothly.
Judge Miller scanned the document for three tense seconds before slamming his heavy wooden gavel onto the sound block. "Motion denied; the federal indictments stand as written, and trial is set for next month," Judge Miller ruled.
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Gasps rippled through the courtroom gallery as the reality of their hopeless situation set in completely. Julian buried his face in his shackled hands, sobbing softly as the marshals led him back toward the holding cells.
Chloe watched from the front row of the gallery, her expression remaining cool, beautiful, and completely emotionless.
