Chapter 4 - Elias Marchetti Makes His Move
The heavy double doors at the back of the courtroom swung open with a slow, heavy creak that drew every eye.
A tall man in a bespoke black overcoat walked into the room with absolute, unhurried authority.
Elias Marchetti.
He didn't wear a tie, and his scarred knuckles were partially visible as he adjusted his dark leather gloves.
Attorney Robert went completely rigid in his seat, dropping his pen once more as panic flashed across his pale face.
Even Preston turned around, his confident smirk faltering into instant, unmistakable confusion.
Elias walked down the center aisle, his heavy leather shoes striking the linoleum floor with rhythmic, intimidating precision.
He didn't sit in the public gallery; instead, he stepped directly up to the defense table where Marlo sat in stunned silence.
“You can’t be here, this is a private family proceeding,” Preston’s lawyer sputtered, standing up to block his path.
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Elias didn't even look at the attorney; he simply placed a heavy hand on the back of Marlo’s chair.
“She is not alone,” Elias said softly, his voice carrying effortlessly across the entire silent courtroom.
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