Chapter 35 Ashes & Accusations #2
"That's enough." Judge Winters holds up a hand. "Ms. Holloway, do you have representation?"
"I—no, I didn't know I needed—"
"She has representation." A new voice, and I turn to see Nash entering the courtroom, dressed in a suit that makes him look less "motorcycle bad boy" and more "lawyer who will end you."
"Nash?" I whisper.
"Called in a favor," Luca murmurs. "Told you we were handling this."
Nash strides to our table with confidence that fills the room.
"Nash Rivera, representing Ms. Holloway. And Your Honor, I have some evidence of my own to present that I believe will clarify this situation significantly."
Korrin's face flickers—just for a second—with something that might be concern.
"This should be good," Judge Winters says dryly. "Proceed."
Nash opens his briefcase, pulling out a folder that's somehow thicker than Korrin's.
"Over the past three months, my associates and I have been documenting a pattern of harassment directed at Ms. Holloway by Mr. Voss."
He starts spreading photos across the table. Time-stamped images of Korrin outside the bakery. Screenshots of burner phone messages. Security camera footage from the barn showing someone trying to tamper with the electrical.
"What you're seeing," Nash says calmly, "is evidence of stalking, harassment, property damage attempts, and—" he pulls out another set of documents, "communications between Mr. Voss and his pack members discussing Ms. Holloway's potential accidental death and a rather sizable life insurance policy he maintained on her even after their separation. "
The room goes silent.
Completely, utterly silent.
"That's—" Korrin's voice cracks slightly. "That's taken out of context—"
"Context?" Nash's smile is sharp. "Let me provide some. Here we have messages discussing 'accidents' that could occur at a bakery. Gas leaks. Electrical fires. Falls down stairs. All very detailed for someone who's simply concerned about an ex-wife's wellbeing."
Judge Winters is reading the documents, her face growing progressively more severe.
"There's also this." Rowan stands, pulling out his own folder.
"Official incident reports from the Oakridge Fire Department regarding suspicious activity near Ms. Holloway's previous residence.
Three separate investigations into potential arson attempts, all occurring within weeks of her moving to town. "
"And this." Reverie appears from somewhere—when did she get here?
—with her laptop. "Comprehensive social media analysis showing that every negative comment, every suspicious review, every attempt to damage Ms. Holloway's business reputation traces back to accounts connected to Mr. Voss's IP address. "
Korrin is pale now, his lawyer—some guy who looks like he handles real estate disputes, not criminal cases—whispering urgently in his ear.
"Your Honor," Nash says, voice carrying through the room, "I move that this defamation case be dismissed immediately, and that the evidence of stalking, harassment, and conspiracy to commit insurance fraud be forwarded to the district attorney."
Judge Winters looks at Korrin with an expression that could freeze hell.
"Mr. Voss, do you have anything to say before I make my ruling?"
He stands, and for a moment, I see him—really see him. Not the powerful Alpha who made me feel small. Not the husband who convinced me I was worthless. Just a man who's losing control and can't handle it.
"She was mine," he says, voice low. "She was my Omega. She doesn't get to just leave and be happy. That's not how this works."
The room erupts.
Judge Winters bangs her gavel.
"Order!"
But I'm already standing, and maybe it's the nest from last night, or the court order ruining my Halloween, or three years of swallowing words, but something inside me breaks open.
"I was never yours." My voice is steady, clear, carrying through the room. "I was trapped. There's a difference."
Korrin turns to face me fully, and I smell it—his scent turning sharp with anger, with Alpha posturing, with the need to dominate.
But I don't flinch.
"You don't own me anymore." I take a step forward, my pack moving with me like we're choreographed. "The men standing behind me? They're my pack now. My choice. My future. And you know what's different about them?"
"Hazel—" Korrin starts, but I'm not finished.
"They're not threatened by my success. They don't need to make me small to feel big. They want me to grow, to thrive, to rise like a phoenix from the ashes of the past life I left behind."
Rowan's arm slides around my waist, solid and supporting.
"I left you behind, Korrin. And I'm proud to finally be free."
"This is ridiculous—" Korrin takes a step toward me, and suddenly, there are police officers in the room.
When did they get here?
"Mr. Korrin Voss," one of them says, official and final, "you're under arrest for stalking, harassment, attempted arson, and conspiracy to commit fraud."
The courtroom explodes again.
Korrin's being cuffed, his face cycling through shock, rage, disbelief.
As the officers lead him past our table, he stops, tries to turn toward me, but Rowan steps between us, a wall of protective Alpha that makes Korrin's attempts at intimidation look pathetic.
Luca leans forward, voice low but carrying.
"Enjoy the chill jail cell floors and the disgusting food. Guess you won't be throwing out that food in comparison to wasting the best food Oakridge has had the privilege of enjoying from the famous small-town Omega baker."
Levi adds with a grin that's all teeth and no humor, "Karma's best served baked, asshole."
And then he's gone, led away in cuffs while the courtroom buzzes with shocked whispers and the rapid clicking of Reverie's camera—of course she's documenting this.
Judge Winters bangs her gavel again. "The defamation case is dismissed. All evidence will be forwarded to the district attorney. Ms. Holloway, you're free to go, and you have the court's apology for this disruption to your Halloween baking schedule."
Did the judge just apologize for ruining my cookie timeline?
"Thank you, Your Honor," I manage, voice shaking now that the adrenaline is crashing.
We're ushered out of the courtroom into October sunshine that feels too bright, too normal for a day where my ex-husband was just arrested for trying to kill me.
"I need to sit down," I announce, and then I'm on the courthouse steps with my head between my knees while three Alphas hover and Reverie fans me with her notebook.
"Breathe," Rowan orders. "In for four, hold for four, out for four."
"Is this real?" I ask the granite steps. "Did that actually just happen?"
"That actually just happened," Luca confirms. "You just verbally destroyed your abusive ex in open court while he was being arrested for stalking and attempted murder."
"And you looked hot doing it," Levi adds. "The dress was perfect. Very 'phoenix rising from ashes' energy."
"I'm going to throw up."
"Please don't," Reverie says. "I need you camera-ready. The whole town's going to want to celebrate."
"Celebrate what? My ex-husband going to jail?"
"Your freedom," she corrects gently. "Your strength. The fact that you stood up to him and won."
I lift my head, and she's right—there's already a crowd forming. Miss Bea from the flower shop, Mrs. Chen with her usual scowl softened into something like approval, Tommy from the construction crew, giving me a thumbs up.
And emerging from the bakery, Mila and Rosemarie with—
"Is that a banner?"
"JUSTICE & PIE!" Mila yells, unfurling a hand-painted sign. "We're throwing you a party!"
"I have seventeen dozen ghost cookies to finish!"
"We finished them," Rosemarie says proudly. "Mila's a stress baker too. We've been churning them out since you left."
"The whole town's been mobilizing," Miss Bea adds, climbing the courthouse steps with more energy than a woman in her seventies should possess. "We knew something was wrong when that man showed up. Oakridge protects its own."
Oakridge protects its own.
I'm going to cry again, in public, on courthouse steps, on Halloween morning, while wearing a thrift store dress and probably still have flour in my hair.
"Come on," Rowan says gently, helping me to my feet. "Let's get you home."
"The bakery—"
"Is being handled," Luca assures me. "Your staff's got it covered. Right now, you need to process what just happened."
What just happened?
Korrin arrested. Evidence of attempted murder. Insurance fraud. Three months of stalking documented and photographed and time-stamped like some kind of procedural drama.
"You knew," I say suddenly, turning to face my pack. "You all knew. The security cameras, the documentation, Nash showing up—you've been planning this."
"We've been protecting you," Rowan corrects. "There's a difference."
"Since when?"
"Since the first rose delivery," Luca admits. "We knew it was him. Knew he'd escalate. So we documented everything, built a case, and waited for him to make a mistake big enough to bury him."
"The emergency hearing was his mistake," Nash adds, joining us on the steps. "He thought he could use the court system to intimidate you. Instead, he walked right into our trap."
Our trap.
My pack built a legal trap for my abusive ex-husband and I had no idea.
"I should be mad that you kept this from me," I say slowly.
"Are you?" Levi asks, looking genuinely worried.
"No." I laugh, slightly hysterical. "I'm relieved. Grateful. Completely overwhelmed. But not mad."
"Good," Rowan says. "Because we're not sorry."
The crowd is growing, people spilling out of shops and offices, and someone—probably Reverie—has spread the word because suddenly everyone's heading toward the bakery.
"JUSTICE & PIE!" someone yells, and it becomes a chant.
"This is insane," I mutter.
"This is community," Miss Bea corrects, linking her arm through mine like we're old friends instead of someone who once complained about my cookie prices. "Now come on. I brought my special cider recipe, and I'm not letting it go to waste."