Chapter 8 - The Criminal Mastermind Exposed
Two months later, the full criminal trial of Beatriz Vance opened at the High Court in Madrid. The charges had been upgraded from domestic child abuse to include attempted murder, corporate fraud, forgery, and international conspiracy.
The courtroom was packed to maximum capacity with international journalists, high-profile legal experts, and public spectators. The story of the wealthy developer who uncovered his wife's horrific secret had captured national headlines across Europe.
Beatriz sat at the defense table, looking gaunt and pale in her dark suit, but her eyes still burned with arrogance. She genuinely believed her high-priced legal team could find a loophole in the Spanish judicial system.
Her lead attorney, Antonio De La Cruz, took the floor during cross-examination.
"Your Honor," De La Cruz addressed the panel of three judges. "The prosecution claims my client attempted to poison Mr. Julian Vance using digitalis. However, we contend that Mr. Vance suffered from a pre-existing cardiovascular condition caused by high stress in his high-stakes career. There is no direct physical proof connecting my client to the administration of these substances!"
The lead federal prosecutor, a fierce woman named Prosecutors Sofia Mendez, stood up calmly.
"Your Honor, we would like to call our next witness to the stand," Mendez announced. "Dr. Hector Morales."
Beatriz’s head snapped toward the entrance of the courtroom.
Dr. Morales, the corrupt doctor from Seville, was escorted into the room by two armed federal marshals. He was wearing an orange prison jumpsuit, his head bowed in shame.
Two weeks earlier, Marcus's security team had tracked Morales attempting to board a private flight to South America. Faced with thirty years in prison for his role in Matteo Rossi's death in Italy, Morales had cut a full plea-bargain deal with the federal prosecutors.
Morales took the witness stand, refusing to make eye contact with Beatriz.
"Dr. Morales," Prosecutor Mendez asked, stepping forward. "Did you provide pharmaceutical-grade digitalis and falsified medical reports to the defendant, Beatriz Vance?"
"Yes," Morales confessed, his voice trembling through the microphone.
"And what was the agreed-upon arrangement?"
"She... she paid me over four hundred thousand euros over two years," Morales revealed, weeping openly. "First, to sign off on Matteo Rossi's heart failure in Milan six years ago... and second, to supply her with cardiac-suppressing drugs to slowly poison Mr. Julian Vance while making it look like work-related stress."
Gasps erupted throughout the courtroom. Journalists scribbled feverishly on their pads.
Beatriz leaped out of her chair, her face contorted in psychotic rage. "You coward! You pathetic weakling! I paid you millions!" she screamed, lunging across the defense table before three bailiffs tackled her to the carpet.
"Order in the court! Order in the court!" the presiding judge shouted, slamming his gavel repeatedly. "Remove the defendant from the room!"
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As Beatriz was dragged out of the courtroom, kicking and screaming obscenities at the judge, the prosecution, and me, I sat calmly in my seat next to Elena and Marcus.
The trap had closed completely. Every lie she had constructed, every life she had ruined, every drop of blood she had squeezed from my innocent daughter had returned to crush her under the unyielding weight of justice.
