“Are you wasting my time, Jacob?”
“I’m not, your honor!” the prosecutor insisted.
“What else do you have for us then?” The judge leaned forward.
“Just this.” The prosecutor adjusted his tie. “Ladies and gentlemen, the facts are simple. The defendant was at the scene. The victim was nearly killed. By his own account, which you have documented in front of you, even though Mr. Varga was unable to appear in court today. His words speak for themselves. There was a blood feud on the streets, and nothing can erase that. Mr. Messina can claim confusion. He can claim coincidence. But people don’t stumble into attempted murder scenes by accident. They don’t arrive at the exact moment violence erupts without reason. The State doesn’t have to prove why he was there, only that he was. Only that his actions placed a human life in jeopardy. You heard the evidence. You saw the photographs. You know chaos doesn’t happen in a vacuum. The defendant’s presence wasn’t a mistake. It was the catalyst. Hold him accountable. Find him guilty.”
“Beautifully said.” Amanda glided to the center stage once more. “But as he said, you only have the word of an absent witness, who dishonored the laws of this land and mocked this court by failing to appear.”
“Get to the point,” the prosecutor snapped.
Amanda threw him a charitable smile. The idiot had just fallen into her trap.
“Certainly,” she mused. “Ladies and gentlemen, presence is not intent. Chaos is not a crime. And coincidence is not guilt. The State wants you to fill in their blanks for them. They want you to guess, to assume, to imagine. But the law demands proof, and they gave you none.”
Amanda swept up to the partition where the jurors sat on their benches. She leaned upon it, posture friendly and open.
“It’s simple. My client was unarmed. Unprepared. And utterly blindsided. Someone else engineered that scene. Someone else set the trap. And the prosecution wants you to convict the man who walked into it.”
They nodded at her, eating out of her fucking hand.
I tensed, breathing hard as I waited for her to finish this farce.
“You don’t punish the wrong man because the right one stayed in the shadows,” Amanda insisted. “You don’t convict on suspicion. You don’t guess with a human life.”
Amanda looked over the court, daring the unseen threat to interfere. To steal this moment from her.
“Find him not guilty,” she insisted.
The judge’s tone was formal as he addressed the jurors. “Members of the jury, you have heard the evidence and the arguments of counsel. Your duty now is to deliberate. Remember that the burden of proof rests entirely with the State. The defendant is presumed innocent unless and until the State proves guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. Your verdict must be unanimous.”
The court adjourned for the deliberation.
I was nudged by the guard to rise.
Amanda still didn’t look at me. She returned to the desk, gathered her papers, and left.
Fiore!I choked back the word.
“Come on, you,” the officer tugged on my cuffed hands.
Fiore, please…look at me.
Amanda never turned back.
Chapter 58 –Amanda
Istaggered into the ladies’ room. Going to the sink, I turned on the cold water. My first trial—my first freaking trial! And it was defending the man I loved more than life itself.
Rinsing my hands, I pressed the backs against my burning cheeks.
The urge to be sick on the floor had subsided as my training took over. The words seemed to flow from my very heart. I didn’t have to think about what to say. I just spoke.
“The jury seems to be in your hands,” a gravelly voice muttered as the door banged open.
I jumped. “Liam! What the hell?”
The mobster swept a look through the space. “You’re my charge until Messina is free. Don’t go sneaking off like that.”
