Chapter 46 Noah
NOAH
None of us had slept. The air in the waiting room was thick with the kind of silence that only comes after a night spent chasing ghosts. Cold coffee. Dead leads.
Dom had something. Finally. A contact from LA, someone who came through at the last possible second. A clinic record, a time-stamped appointment, something to prove Annamaria had a nose job days before the heist.
But it still wasn’t enough.
As he’d said hours ago, it didn’t rule out assault afterward. It poked holes, but it didn’t unravel the whole lie. And without proof that Harlow had helped stitch this together, we were still flying without a parachute.
I pushed off the wall. “You need to win this,” I said, threading through the tight space between us.
“We will.”
“And you’re still sure about the new strategy?”
We’d made the call late last night. Pivot or stall out.
“Absolutely.”
I stepped in, close enough that it could’ve been a challenge. “I don’t care what it takes, Dom. Who you call or what rule you bend. You hear me, Powell? You win.”
His phone buzzed. Loud in the silence.
“Powell,” he answered. Then he just listened. No words. Just that stillness that made me want to put my fist through drywall.
“Jesus, say something,” I snapped. “What the hell’s happening?”
Dom didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Then, finally, he said, “I’ll be back.”
“What?” I moved to follow, but he was already gone. “Dom! Powell!” But the doors flung shut behind him.
The clock above the door ticked louder than it should have. Fifteen minutes.
Maya sat near the bench, clutching the edge of her coat. She looked up at me, her eyes too bright. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” I said. “But whatever it is, he’s working it. He won’t let us down.” I told her that as if I believed it. But I wasn’t sure I did.
Twelve minutes.
Eight.
Four.
The bailiff called our names.
The doors creaked open, that polished wood groan of inevitability. We stepped through.
My legs felt like they belonged to someone else. Elia appeared on my left, one palm firm on my shoulder.
“We’ve got her,” he murmured. “No matter what.”
I nodded. Because I had to.
Dom reappeared, breathing fast, a storm just barely contained in a suit.
“Where the hell—” I started.
“Not now,” he said, sliding past me. “Just trust me, Lucas. Sit down. Hold tight.”
“Powell—”
“All rise.”
Maya sat in the witness box, composed and collected, but I knew her well enough now to notice the slight tension in her shoulders and the way she kept flexing her fingers between questions. She was preparing for the next blow.
And it came fast.
“Maya Lucas,” the prosecutor said. “You initially claimed you weren’t at the Belrose estate the night of the burglary.”
“That’s right.”
“And now, under oath, you are admitting you were there?”
“Yes.”
He cocked his head, feigning confusion. “So, which is it? Because you can’t have it both ways.”
“I denied it at first because I was scared,” Maya said simply. “The police already had their minds made up about me, just like they did four years ago.”
A murmur rippled through the courtroom. The prosecutor smirked, pacing in front of the jury. “So, you lied.”
“I changed my statement to tell the truth.”
“That’s convenient,” he scoffed. “Or maybe lying just comes naturally to you, Mrs. Lucas. It’s in your blood, after all.”
The room stilled, while Dom raised his objection.
Maya’s fingers curled around the edge of the witness box.
The judge warned the prosecutor, and he said he’d rephrase.
The prosecutor turned, flipping a page in his notes. “Your father, William Belrose, was arrested for theft when he was twenty-four, wasn’t he? And fraud four years later?”
She bowed her head. “Yes.”
“That’s quite the record, Mrs. Lucas. A father who lied, cheated, and stole…and a daughter who follows right in his footsteps.”
I was on my feet.
Elia grabbed my arm again. “Noah,” he muttered. “Don’t.”
The prosecutor barely glanced at me before focusing back on Maya.
“My father made mistakes,” she said. “And he took responsibility for them. Just like I did, four years ago.”
“Right,” the prosecutor drawled. “So we should believe that this time is different?”
Maya held his stare. “Yes.”
His smirk deepened. “Because you say so?”
“Because it’s the truth.”
Silence.
And then, from the gallery—
“I’ve seen milk toast with more backbone than your argument.”
Mrs. Appleby.
The courtroom erupted.
Laughter mixed with gasps, and even the judge fought a smirk as he rapped his gavel. “Order! Order in the court!”
The only people not laughing were the prosecutor and David Belrose’s side of the room.
Without wasting time, the prosecutor stepped forward. “Mrs. Lucas, did you or did you not steal the necklace in question?”
“No, I did not,” Maya replied, her voice clear.
He arched a brow. “Then why were you inside the residence that day?”
“I went to retrieve the necklace,” she said.
He gave a sharp, incredulous laugh. “So you’re admitting to being there, but you expect us to believe it wasn’t theft? Mrs. Lucas, are you making a mockery of these proceedings?”
Dom rose from his seat. “Objection, Your Honor. Argumentative. There is a legal distinction between theft and recovery of property. If permitted, I will demonstrate that distinction with supporting evidence.”
The judge gave him a measured look. “You’re walking a fine line, Mr. Powell.”
“I understand, Your Honor. But I submit that the line still exists.”
The judge nodded reluctantly. “Proceed. And Counselor”—he turned to the prosecutor—“wrap it up.”
The prosecutor adjusted his tie and faced Maya. “Mrs. Lucas, you were present at the scene. You took the necklace. That is, by legal definition, an admission of guilt.” He turned away. “No further questions.”
The jury wasn’t nodding along anymore.
Maya sat taller.
And me? I gritted my teeth and held on to that moment.
I’d be damned if I let this courtroom take her from me.
And I only had Dom to make it happen.
He was good. Hell, Dom was great.
But as I sat in that gallery, elbows on my knees, my hands locked tight, I could see it. The jury wasn’t with us.
Dom had just finished cross-examining Maya.
Graceful, respectful, and cutting only where he had to.
He’d drawn out her truth without letting the prosecution twist it.
But still, those jurors shifted in their seats, their arms folded or fingers grazing their mouths.
I’d seen that look before. Back when I still sat across boardroom tables instead of defense benches.
The look of polite interest and reserved judgment? It was not belief.
Maya held herself strong, her chin high as she left the witness box. But I saw the way her hands trembled slightly under the table, tucked beneath the edge where no one else could see.
She was scared. And I was useless to fix it.
Until Dom stood tall once again.
I knew that posture. That calm, focused confidence he got right before he leveled the battlefield.
“The defense calls Annamaria Belrose.”
I saw Maya cover her mouth, stunned. I was just as shocked. This had never been part of the plan.
The prosecutor was on his feet instantly. “This is absurd, Your Honor. A last-minute witness—”
“You pulled the exact same trick yesterday,” Dom said coolly. “Fair’s fair.”
Across the courtroom, Annamaria froze. Her skin had gone chalk-white.
Dom continued, “The witness has been properly served. She’s in this courthouse. We ask the court to compel her testimony.”
“No!” Annamaria burst out as her parents tried to shield her.
“Then we’ll file to hold you in contempt,” Dom said.
The judge adjusted his glasses. “Miss Belrose, I suggest you comply.”
Annamaria rose from her seat like someone being walked to her own execution.
Dom allowed the silence to stretch for just long enough. Then he stepped forward. “Miss Belrose, to whom did the necklace legally belong?”
Annamaria straightened in the witness chair. “Me.”
Dom tilted his head. “Unless you were alive during Prohibition, I find that difficult to believe.”
A ripple of laughter swept through the gallery, quickly stifled when the judge struck his gavel. “Order.”
Annamaria doubled down. “It was mine.”
Dom walked over to the evidence table and lifted a document. “Let the record reflect this certificate of ownership, retrieved from an archived insurance policy taken out by Eleanor Macintosh, Maya Lucas’s great-grandmother.”
He paused just long enough to let the paper land with a crisp thud on the podium. “This necklace was never yours, Miss Belrose. Not by inheritance. Not by purchase. Not by legal transfer.”
Her voice wobbled. “My family claimed it. It was collateral, payment for a debt Maya’s family owed us.”
Dom stepped forward. “The debt that doesn’t exist. No record, no contract, no acknowledgment, just a family myth used to justify theft. What Maya Lucas did was not burglary. It was reclamation.”
He then turned to the jury. “She was there to retrieve what was rightfully hers.”
Annamaria didn’t speak.
Dom seized the moment. “Let’s rewind a bit. Four and a half years ago. The first alleged break-in. The first time the necklace disappeared.”
The prosecutor groaned audibly. “Your Honor, that trial was already adjudicated—”
“I’ll get to the point,” Dom said. “Just a few more questions.”
The judge glared at him. “You’re on a tightrope, Mr. Powell.”
Dom didn’t flinch. He turned back to Annamaria. “You were assaulted by your cousin, Maya Lucas, formerly Maya Belrose?”
“Yes.”
“Where were you a week before that alleged assault?”
“Why does that matter?”
Dom didn’t answer. He simply walked to the evidence table and held up a document.
A medical admission.
“Clinique La Tulipe,” he said. “Beverly Hills.”
He didn’t even need to ask the question. He just held it there.
The jury leaned in.
“So those bruises,” Dom said, “around your nose and your cheeks. Those were post-surgical?”
“I—” Her voice broke. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t hit me!”
“Miss Belrose, you testified under oath that Maya assaulted you. That she punched you.”
Annamaria’s chin wobbled. “She didn’t hit me,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible.
“I’m sorry, Miss Belrose. Could you speak up for the jury?”
She fidgeted in her seat. “No,” she said more clearly. “Maya didn’t hit me.”
“So you’re confirming that the bruises and swelling were due to your surgery?”
Her eyes flicked to her parents, then to Harlow. Her mother pressed her lips together while her father stared straight ahead. And Harlow? Harlow wouldn’t even look at her.
Annamaria’s shoulders curled inward as if trying to shrink. “No one ever hit me,” she affirmed.
The gallery stirred, whispers rippling across the room. Maya turned slightly in her seat, and I gave her a nod.
Dom stepped closer to the witness stand. “Then let’s talk about what really happened.”
Annamaria looked down at her hands. “I heard something that night. Couldn’t tell what or who.
But the next morning, I walked through the house.
I was alone. I didn’t want to get caught off guard if someone came back.
” She swallowed. “I checked my dad’s safe.
The necklace was gone. Only the necklace.
That’s when I knew. I knew it was Maya.”
“So, the statement you gave to Detective Harlow?”
Her lips quavered, but she stayed silent.
“Because here’s what I think,” Dom said. “I think Detective Harlow asked you for more than a statement.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“No? Then maybe it was you who offered.”
“I didn’t offer anything!”
“Bribing a police officer is a crime, Miss Belrose.”
Annamaria blinked once. Then twice. And broke.
“It was his idea!” she burst out, jabbing her finger. “Detective Harlow!”
“You mean the glove? Maya’s hair?”
“Yes!”
“And he expected compensation, didn’t he?”
She nodded frantically. “Yes. He said if I went along, he’d make it stick. He wanted a cut. I…I panicked. I didn’t know what else to do, so yes, I paid him.”
The courtroom fractured, with gasps, murmurs, and the sharp shuffle of shoes. Even the Belroses recoiled, as if the walls had caved in.
I leaned back in my seat, the breath I’d been holding finally releasing.
So that’s what Dom had been chasing all morning.
Maya turned around slightly in her chair again, and her eyes found mine.
God, she looked like sunlight breaking through a storm. Shaken and strong at once.
I mouthed, You’re almost there.
And for the first time in that courtroom, the jury wasn’t looking at Maya. They were looking at Harlow. And they didn’t like what they saw.
Dom’s voice rang out like a blade.
“Your Honor, it is clear that Mrs. Lucas was falsely imprisoned four years ago. That alone warrants a mistrial. But beyond that, under the constitutional protection against double jeopardy, the second burglary charge must also be dismissed. She was tried for a crime she did not commit, and now, they are attempting to punish her again.”
The prosecutor shot to his feet, his face flushed. “Your Honor, the defense is twisting this into a corruption trial. This case is about a burglary. The facts stand. Maya Lucas was in that mansion, she possessed the necessary tools, and she bypassed the security system. That is not in dispute!”
Dom stayed stone-still. “He’s right. She was there.
She’s never denied that. But she went to the mansion to retrieve what was rightfully hers.
What we’ve proven, Your Honor, is that her prior conviction was built on lies.
Lies paid for and planted. A conviction that should’ve never stood.
And that taint renders any subsequent prosecution unlawful.
This isn’t a technicality. This is constitutional.
The very definition of double jeopardy.”
The prosecutor tried to shout over him. “This is a circus! He’s making a mockery—”
Bang.
The judge’s gavel slammed.
“Enough,” he declared.
The courtroom froze.
The judge’s gaze swept the room. Then—
“Case dismissed. Mrs. Lucas, you’re free to go.”
Maya turned to me, stunned, the disbelief still flickering in her eyes.
And then I was on my feet. I didn’t think. I just moved.
I caught her in my arms like the ground had disappeared beneath us both.
She clung to me, fierce, shaking, and alive.
“I told you,” I whispered into her hair. “You were never going to do this alone.”
She nodded against my chest. “I didn’t believe it until now.”
I pulled back just enough to look at her face. “Believe it, Blue. You’re free.”
Dom was somewhere off to the side, getting swarmed by half of Buffaloberry Hill, probably taking a victory lap in pure Powell fashion. I’d tease him later. Right now, this was ours.
I bent my head and kissed her. Not just because she was walking out of this courtroom free, but because she was walking back into a life they couldn’t steal, with me at her side.