Aurelia's POV
Monday morning.
The first thing I saw when I entered the office was Vincent Montclair standing near the reception desk, speaking to Mr. Sanchez.
The second thing I noticed was that he stopped speaking the moment he saw me.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
I continued walking as if I hadn't noticed him, placing my bag on my shoulder and heading towards my cabin.
I had barely taken three steps when my phone vibrated.
Vincent:Good morning, My Vale.
I looked at him from the corner of my eyes.
He was still speaking to Mr. Sanchez, looking completely innocent.
Me:We're literally in the same office.
Vincent:And yet you haven't greeted me.
Me:Good morning, Mr. Montclair.
Vincent:That's not what I wanted.
I smiled at my phone.
Me:Bare with it.
Vincent:Unfortunately, I have several cases to handle before I can arrange my funeral.
I laughed before I could stop myself.
When I looked up, he was watching me.
He smiled.
I immediately straightened my expression and walked into my cabin.
Oh, did I forget to mention you all, the company arranged me a cabin because of my achieved milestone I became Senior attorney, and surprisingly it is near Vincent cabin, and my coworkers? They are handling cases under me, which doesn't make sense because Evelyn still has the same bond with me , we don't use ma'am or sir… This is just for letting the shareholders happy…Anyway,
This was going to be a very long Monday.
And it hadn't even been ten minutes.
By eleven, Vincent had found at least four reasons to visit my cabin.
First, he needed a document.
Then he wanted to discuss a case.
After that, he asked whether I had eaten breakfast.
And finally, he came in simply to ask whether the air conditioning was too cold.
I stared at him.
"Vincent."
"Yes, Vale?"
"Is there an actual reason you're here?"
"Several."
"Name one."
He looked at the file in his hand.
"This."
I held out my hand.
He gave me the file. But not so simple, while giving me the file he intentionally brushed his hands with mine which somehow made my stomach do a flip.
I opened it.
It was empty.
I slowly raised my eyes.
He looked at me without a trace of shame.
"Wrong file."
"You're unbelievable."
"I've been told."
"By whom?"
He leaned slightly towards me.
"Someone I happen to be very fond of."
I tried not to smile.
"Get out."
"You're asking your director to leave his own office?"
"This is my cabin."
"Then I suppose I'll have to visit again."
He walked out before I could throw the empty file at him.
I was still smiling when Evelyn entered.
She stopped at the door.
Then she looked at me.
Then at the corridor through which Vincent had disappeared.
Then back at me.
"Why are you smiling like that?"
"I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm reading."
"Your file is upside down."
I looked down.
It was.
"I have talent to read file upside down. You will learn it too."
She burst out laughing.
I closed the file.
"Get out, Evelyn."
She tried to stop laughing by make serious face but then she again started laughing.
Oh, I was going to murder her.
Not literally, obviously.
I was a lawyer. I knew better than to leave evidence.
By afternoon, the teasing had to stop.
The final hearing in the Marco case was scheduled for that day.
For months, the investigation had followed a trail of lies, misleading evidence, concealed connections, and people who had been willing to protect the truth for their own reasons.
Now, everything had to be placed before the court.
Every piece of evidence.
Every connection.
Every answer.
The case had already taken enough from us.
I wasn't going to let it end with unanswered questions.
Vincent met me outside the courtroom.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he looked at me.
"Ready, Vale?"
I adjusted the files in my hand.
"Yes, I am ."
His expression softened.
He reached towards me as if he wanted to fix the collar of my blazer, but stopped when another lawyer walked past us.
I noticed.
Of course I noticed.
"You're doing it again," I whispered.
"Doing what?"
"Acting as though you aren't allowed to stand next to me."
He glanced at the courtroom doors.
"We're about to enter a courtroom, Aurelia."
"And?"
"And I would prefer not to give the opposing counsel a reason to question our professionalism."
I stepped closer and straightened his tie.
"Then behave professionally, Mr. Montclair."
His eyes met mine.
"You're making that considerably difficult."
I smiled.
"Good luck, then."
I walked into the courtroom before he could answer.
Behind me, I heard him laugh quietly.
The courtroom was full.
The judge took his seat, and the proceedings began.
The prosecution presented the evidence gathered during the investigation, establishing the connections between Marco, the conspiracy, and the crimes under examination.
The documentary records were examined. Witness statements were considered. The evidence that had once seemed disconnected was placed in context, allowing the court to understand how the different pieces fitted together.
The defence had its opportunity to challenge the evidence and question the witnesses.
Nothing was allowed to rest on suspicion alone.
Every claim had to be supported.
Every connection had to be established.
I sat beside Vincent, following the proceedings carefully.
At one point, our eyes met.
He gave me the smallest nod.
I returned it.
We had spent too long getting here to let our emotions interfere now.
When the final submissions were complete, the courtroom fell quiet.
The judge considered the evidence before delivering the decision.
The ruling brought the proceedings against Marco to their conclusion, with the court determining the charges and the consequences in accordance with the evidence and applicable law.
I let out a breath I hadn't realised I was holding.
It was over.
At least, this part of it was.
The case that had followed us for months had finally reached its end.
No more waiting for another piece of evidence.
No more wondering who was hiding what.
No more waking up with the feeling that we were missing something important.
I turned towards Vincent.
He was already looking at me.
For once, neither of us smiled.
We simply understood.
We had made it to the other side.
But the hardest moment came after the proceedings.
My uncle stood near the corridor, beside my cousin.
And a few steps away from them stood my aunt, under police supervision.
She looked smaller than I remembered.
Not because the world had suddenly become cruel to her.
But because the truth had finally taken away the person she had pretended to be.
When she saw my uncle, her eyes filled with tears.
"Please."
My uncle didn't move.
She took a shaky breath.
"Please, listen to me. I know what I did. I know I have no right to ask you for anything, but—"
"Don't."
His voice was quiet.
She stopped.
"Don't stand there and speak as though this happened to you."
My aunt lowered her eyes.
"I made mistakes."
"Mistakes?"
He let out a short, disbelieving laugh.
"You didn't forget an anniversary. You didn't say something cruel during an argument. You made decisions that destroyed lives."
His eyes shone with tears.
"You sat beside me. You ate with me. You listened to me speak about my brother, knowing what you had done to him."
My aunt began crying.
"I loved you."
My uncle stared at her.
"Did you?"
The question silenced her.
"Because I loved you enough to believe every word you said. I trusted you with my home, my family, my life. And you used that trust to hide what you had done."
He wiped his face.
"I lost my brother. I lost the woman I thought I knew. And my son has to live with the knowledge that his own mother chose to do these things."
He looked at my cousin.
"Do you understand what you've done to him?"
My cousin stepped forward.
"Mother."
She looked at him immediately.
For one brief second, hope appeared on her face.
Then he spoke again.
"Please don't ask me to forgive you."
Her expression crumbled.
"I'm your mother."
"I know."
His voice shook.
"That's what makes this so difficult."
He wiped his eyes.
"I used to think you were the person who would teach me right from wrong. I thought you were someone I could trust, someone I could come to when I didn't understand the world."
He swallowed.
"And now I don't even know which memories of you I can look back on without wondering whether you were lying."
My aunt reached towards him.
He stepped back.
That hurt her more than anything else he could have said.
"Please, son. I can explain—"
"Then explain why you did it."
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
"Explain why you let us live beside you without knowing the truth. Explain why you thought you could take away someone's father and then return to your family as if nothing had happened."
His eyes filled again.
"I don't know how to look at you anymore."
My uncle turned away.
For a moment, all three of them stood in silence.
Then my aunt looked at me.
"Aurelia."
I didn't answer.
"I'm sorry."
She took a trembling breath.
"I'm sorry for your father. I'm sorry for what I did to your family. I'm sorry for everything."
I looked at her.
I had imagined this moment before.
I had imagined asking her why.
I had imagined screaming at her until every unanswered question had been spoken aloud.
But now that she stood in front of me, I felt no satisfaction.
Only a sadness I couldn't explain.
"You are not sorry," I said quietly.
She nodded desperately.
"I am."
"I don't get it from where you get guts to even speak in front of us after you destroyed your own family and my family."
"I know."
"No, Aunt. I don't think you do."
My voice remained steady, even though my hands had begun to tremble.
"You don't get to decide when I stop hurting. You don't get to ask me to make you feel better about what you did."
She began crying harder.
I looked at my uncle and cousin.
"I forgive Uncle. I forgive my brother."
My cousin lowered his head, tears slipping down his face.
"They didn't choose your actions. They shouldn't have to carry the blame for them."
Then I looked back at her.
"But I cannot forgive you."
She closed her eyes.
"I don't expect you to."
"Don't speak, you don't deserve it, now my eyes don't see you as my beloved aunt anymore, it sees you as a murderer, a criminal and a disgusting liar.."
The word came out more sharply than I intended.
I took a breath.
"I hope one day you understand what you destroyed. Not because I want you to suffer, but because the people you hurt deserved better than this."
The officers guided her away.
She didn't try to approach us again.
My uncle stood motionless.
My cousin went to him and held his arm.
I walked towards them.
"Uncle?"
He turned.
His eyes were red.
"I'm sorry, Aurelia."
I shook my head.
"You don't have to apologise for her."
"I know, but—"
"You loved her. You trusted her. You didn't know."
I held his hand.
"And you came here today. You listened to the truth, even when it hurt. That's what matters now."
My cousin hugged me.
"I'm sorry, sister."
I held him tightly.
"You don't have to say sorry, you aren't to be blamed."
For the first time in months, I felt as though I could breathe without waiting for another terrible revelation.
The case was over.
The truth had been heard.
Justice had begun to take its course.
But healing would take longer.
And that was something we would have to learn to do one day at a time.
When I finally stepped outside, Vincent was waiting near the entrance.
He didn't ask whether I was all right.
He knew better than that.
Instead, he held out his hand.
I looked at it.
Then at him.
"Public place, Mr. Montclair."
"An observation, Miss Vale. Not a prohibition."
I slipped my hand into his.
His fingers closed around mine.
"Come on," he said. "You've earned a quiet evening."
I looked at him.
"And what about your work?"
"I have delegated it."
"All of it?"
"Most of it."
"Vincent."
He sighed.
"Fine. Enough of it."
I laughed.
He smiled and walked beside me.
For once, I didn't look back at the courthouse.
I didn't need to.
The case was behind us.
And whatever came next, I wouldn't have to face it alone.