CHAPTER 7
Inside the grand, wood-panelled courtroom, the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense as three top-tier defense attorneys attempted to negotiate emergency bail.
"Your Honor!" Adrian's lead defense attorney argued passionately before the bench. "My clients are prominent figures in the financial community with zero prior criminal record! We request immediate bail under home confinement!"
The federal prosecutor stood up calmly, placing a heavy black binder and a digital flash drive onto the evidence podium before the judge.
"The government strongly opposes bail, Your Honor," the prosecutor declared firmly, his voice echoing through the silent room. "We have digital audio and high-definition video footage recorded by the victim, Evelyn Hawthorne, less than twelve hours ago."
The prosecutor tapped a button on his laptop, filling the courtroom displays with the crystal-clear video recorded during my attempted murder at the dining table.
The room watched in horrified silence as Margaret sneered, driving her heel into my hand while holding my life-saving EpiPen just out of my reach.
The audio captured Adrian's cold, indifferent voice clearly: "Try the salmon... It was supposed to be Evelyn’s last family dinner. It would be a shame to waste it."
The presiding judge turned red with visible indignation, slamming his gavel down with such force that the loud crack echoed off the marble walls.
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"Bail is denied in its entirety for all defendants!" the judge boomed coldly. "The defendants will remain in federal custody at the Metropolitan Detention Center pending trial!"
Margaret let out a pathetic, loud sob, collapsing back into her defense chair as marshals immediately stepped forward to drag her toward the holding cells.
