Hey, Richard called out across the aisle. Elena, if you want, I can spot you 500 bucks for a public defender. I'd hate for this to be too easy. Elena didn't turn her head. She sat perfectly straight, staring at the empty judge's bench.
The bailiff, a burly man with a thick neck, walked to the front. He looked nervous. He glanced at the door behind the bench, then back at the crowd. All rise, the bailiff shouted, his voice cracking slightly. "Superior Court is now in session.
The Honorable Justice, uh, Justice Vance presiding. Richard froze. He leaned over to his lead lawyer, a man named Marcus Thorne. Vance? Who is Vance?
I thought we paid off. I mean, I thought we requested Judge Miller. Miller loves me. We golf together. Miller called in sick this morning.
Marcus Thorne whispered, frowning. I don't know. A Vance. Must be a visiting judge or a substitute. Is he buyable?
Richard asked under his breath. Everyone is buyable, Mr. Sterling. Thorne smirked. The door opened. The room went silent as the judge walked in.
He was an older man, perhaps in his late 60s, but he moved with the power of a linebacker. He wore the standard black robes. But there was something different about him. He didn't just walk. He marched.
He had steel gray hair cut short, a neatly trimmed white beard, and a face that looked like it had been carved out of granite. He climbed the steps to the bench and sat down. He didn't look at the files. He didn't look at the lawyers. He looked straight at Richard Sterling.
Richard felt a chill run down his spine. The judge's eyes were terrifying. They were cold, analytical, and utterly void of emotion. Be seated, the judge said. His voice was deep, booming without a microphone.
Your honor, Marcus Thorne stood up, buttoning his jacket. We were expecting Judge Miller. If I may ask, sit down, counselor, judge Vance said. He didn't shout, but the command was absolute. Thorne blinked, taken aback.
I Yes, your honor. I am Judge Arthur Vance, the judge announced, scanning the room. I have been assigned this case due to a conflict of interest with Judge Miller. I have reviewed the initial filings. This is a divorce petition citing irreconcilable differences and a contest of the prenuptial agreement.
He looked at Elena for a split second. The granite expression softened just a fraction. The defendant is representing herself. Elena stood up. Yes, your honor.
Very well, Judge Vance said. Mr. Thorne, you may begin your opening statement, and be brief. I do not have patience for theatrics today. Thorne stood up, pacing in front of the jury box, though there was no jury for this hearing. He played to the press.
Your honor, Thorne began, using his best radio voice. We are here to dissolve a marriage that was quite frankly a fraud. My client, Mr. Sterling is a titan of industry.
He married Ms. Elena Vance, Richard nudged Jessica. He said her maiden name.
"Who cares? Jessica whispered. "Miss Vance," Thorne continued, under the pretense that she was a supportive partner. "Instead, we will prove she was lazy, ungrateful, and eventually abusive towards Mr. Sterling and his new partner. We are asking for the prenuptial agreement to be enforced strictly.
She leaves with what she came with, which according to our records is effectively nothing. Thorne smiled at the press. We also ask for a restraining order. Miss Elena has shown unstable behavior. Judge Vance scribbled something on his notepad.
He didn't look up. Miss Elena, your statement. Elena stood up. She didn't pace. She gripped the table.
Your honor, Elena said clearly. I only ask for what is fair. I helped build Sterling Global. I designed the logo. I managed the books for the first two years unpaid.
I am not asking for half. I am asking for recognition of my contribution. Lies. Jessica shouted from the table. Silence.
Judge Vance's gavel slammed down. He looked at Jessica. You are not a party to this lawsuit, young woman. You are an observer. If you speak out of turn again, I will have you removed.
Is that clear? Jessica huffed, crossing her arms. Whatever. He's just a cranky old man, she whispered to Richard. Proceed, Judge Vance said to Elena.
That is all, your honor. Elena sat down. Very well, Judge Vance leaned forward. Mr. Thorne, call your first witness. We call Richard Sterling to the stand.
Richard buttoned his jacket, winked at Jessica, and walked to the witness stand. He placed his hand on the Bible. "Do you swear to tell the truth? The whole truth, and nothing but the truth," the bailiff asked. "I do," Richard said smoothly.
Judge Vance stared at him over the rim of his glasses. "Mr. Sterling, remember that you are under oath. Perjury in my courtroom is not a fine. It is a prison sentence. Do you understand?
I understand, your honor, Richard chuckled dismissively. But the truth is on my side. Judge Vance leaned back. We shall see. Proceed.
Mr. Sterling. Marcus Thorne paced back and forth holding a sheaf of papers. Did Miss Elena Vance ever contribute financially to Sterling Global? Richard adjusted his silk tie, leaning into the microphone. Absolutely not.
In fact, she was a drain on resources. She spent thousands a month on personal wellness, spas, gurus, that sort of thing. I worked 18-hour days while she was getting massages. A ripple of murmurs went through the gallery. Elena sat silently, her face pale, writing furiously on her notepad.