Chapter 6 - The Paper WarBy noon the following day, Lena was discharged from the hospital and resting comfortably in the guest bedroom of my home—a gated property protected by high-end security cameras and a private security guard stationed at the front entrance.
While Lena slept, my home office transformed into a command center.
Gabriel Vance sat across from me at my mahogany desk, surrounded by financial printouts, court summonses, and digital forensic reports provided by our private investigative team. Derek sat on the leather sofa, quietly cleaning his boots.
"Travis's mother hired a local criminal defense lawyer named Marcus Thorne," Gabriel reported, adjusting his glasses. "Thorne called me thirty minutes ago, trying to fish for a plea deal."
"What kind of deal?" I asked coldly.
"They want the felony assault charge reduced to a misdemeanor, six months of probation, and a mutual waiver of all financial claims regarding the mortgage fraud," Gabriel chuckled dryly. "Thorne claimed Travis suffered a 'psychotic break' due to financial stress."
"Tell Thorne to go to hell," I said without hesitation.
"I used slightly more professional language, but the message was the same," Gabriel replied. "I informed him that we are pursuing the absolute maximum sentence under state law—fifteen years in state prison for armed domestic assault, grand forgery, and identity theft."
"What about Travis's family?" Derek chimed in from the sofa. "Are they trying to post his bail?"
"His mother tried to put her house up as collateral," Gabriel said. "But our financial team discovered that Travis had already persuaded her to co-sign two secondary loans last year. Her property is heavily encumbered. The bail bondsman turned her down an hour ago. Travis is staying in county jail until his trial date."
A quiet knock came at the office door. Lena stepped inside, wearing a comfortable oversized sweater, her arm resting securely in her white sling.
"Dad?" she asked softly.
I stood up immediately, stepping around the desk to help her sit in the armchair. "Should you be resting, sweetie?"
"I couldn't sleep," she admitted, looking at the papers scattered across my desk. "I... I heard you talking about the trial."
"You don't have to worry about a thing, Lena," Gabriel reassured her gently. "The state's case is ironclad. We have the 911 audio, the 911 call from your father, the hospital medical reports, the aluminum bat recovered with his fingerprints, and the digital paper trail of the forged loan."
Lena looked down at her cast, touching the white fiberglass with her fingertips. "He sent me a text message from jail through his lawyer's office system."
My posture went instantly rigid. "What did he say?"
Lena pulled her phone from her pocket and handed it to me.
The message read: Lena, please tell your father to drop the charges. I made a mistake. If I go to prison, my life is over. You swore in our vows to stand by me through better or worse. Don't ruin my future over one bad afternoon.
A dark, terrifying silence filled the room.
Derek stood up from the sofa so fast his chair skidded backward against the rug. "That son of a bitch is still trying to manipulate her from a cell."
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"Gabriel," I said, handing the phone to my attorney, my voice dangerously calm. "Add witness tampering and violation of a protective order to the indictment."
"Done," Gabriel said instantly, taking a photo of the screen. "That message just sealed his fate with the judge."
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