Chapter 8 - The Verdict and the AuctionBy Friday afternoon, the jury returned after less than two hours of deliberation.

Guilty on all counts.
The judge’s gavel struck the wooden block with a loud, final thud that echoed off the high plaster ceilings.
Richard Blackwood was sentenced to twelve years in a federal penitentiary, his personal assets confiscated under federal asset forfeiture laws to pay forty-two million dollars in restitution to defrauded investors and unpaid state taxes.
Jackson, taking a negotiated plea agreement after my testimony proved insurmountable, was sentenced to four years in a medium-security state facility for corporate fraud and felony domestic assault, accompanied by a permanent, ten-year order of protection that barred him from ever coming within five hundred yards of me or my properties.
Three weeks after the trial concluded, a public asset auction was held on the front lawn of the Blackwood suburban estate.
The spring sun was shining bright, casting warm light across the manicured lawns where luxury cars, antique furniture, oil paintings, and Genesis’s extensive jewelry collection were set out under large white tents, cataloged by court-appointed liquidators.
I walked through the grounds wearing a simple beige trench coat and sunglasses, holding a cup of hot coffee.
I watched as local antique dealers and liquidators bid on the mahogany dining table—the very table where three months ago, a porcelain plate had been smashed against my chest. It sold for a fraction of its original value to a local restaurant group.
Genesis stood near the edge of the driveway, watching her entire life’s collection being sold off item by item. She was living in a small, one-bedroom rented apartment in the suburbs, funded by a modest state assistance program, her country club memberships and high-society friends having vanished the moment the federal indictments were unsealed.
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When she caught sight of me standing near the tents, she didn't shriek. She didn't glare. She simply looked at me with an expression of profound, crushing defeat, turned around, and walked toward her small hatchback parked on the street.
I took a slow sip of my coffee, feeling the warm sun on my face, and turned my back on the estate forever.
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