The Wife he threw Away (Claire and Lucian) novel Chapter 259

The courtroom felt different when we returned from recess. It felt louder.

Whispers moved through the gallery with the speed of light. Reporters leaned toward one another, typing, writing, speaking rapidly into their phones.

Lawyers clustered together in low conversations. Even the jurors looked different— more alert now. More curious.

Dr. Ramon’s testimony had changed something.

Twenty minutes earlier, we’d walked out of the courtroom with the entire room still reeling from his revelation.

“A man desperate for a child will always return to the woman who can give him one.”

Those words had exposed something far more important than a falsified medical report.

They had exposed intent.

Eva hadn’t simply lied about my fertility. She had understood exactly what she was doing.

She had known Lucian’s greatest vulnerability and had deliberately built a trap around it.

I looked across the courtroom.

Eva was already seated beside her attorneys, whispering something.

But she wasn’t looking at me. She wasn’t looking at the judge or even her lawyers either.

She was staring down at her hands.

And for the first time since this trial began, she looked small.

Not innocent— and definitely not helpless.

Just… small.

I should have felt satisfied.

Instead, I felt strangely empty.

Because I had spent months imagining what it would feel like when the truth finally came out.

I had dreaded my anger.

I had imagined relief.

I had anticipated vindication.

But sitting there, watching Eva avoid everyone’s eyes, I realized something.

This wasn’t about making her feel bad.

It was about making her accountable for all the lives she ruined. For all the careers she ended— all the people she broke down, just so she could rise up.

We weren’t finished— not even close.

The bailiff called the courtroom to order, so everyone stood as the judge returned.

“Be seated.”

We sat.

I glanced briefly toward the gallery.

He was still recovering at the hospital, exactly where he was supposed to be.

A small part of me wished Lucian could have been here.

Not because I needed him to defend me, but because there were things being revealed about his life that he deserved to hear with his own ears.

Then again… perhaps it was better this way.

He had suffered enough.

I looked down at my notes.

The next witness was waiting outside.

“Call the witness in.”

The bailiff opened the side door, and a middle-aged man in a dark suit walked through, carrying a thick folder.

He walked toward the witness stand like someone accustomed to numbers rather than people.

He raised his right hand so the clerk could administer the oath.

“I swear.” He finally said, then took a seat.

And then we began.

“Please state your name and occupation for the record.”

“My name is Richard Hale. I’m a certified forensic accountant specializing in financial investigations and asset tracing.”

“Mr. Hale, were you retained to investigate certain financial transactions involving Dhark Holdings and Mr. Lucian Dhark?”

“Yes.”

“How extensive was your investigation?”

He glanced toward the stack of documents beside him. “Extensive.” He stated.

A few people in the gallery laughed quietly, just before the judge gave them a warning look.

Mr. Hale continued. “We reviewed bank records, corporate accounts, investment accounts, wire transfers, communications, invoices, offshore entities, and transaction histories.”

“And what did you discover?”

The defense attorney immediately stood.

“Objection! The question is overly broad.”

“Sustained,” the judge said. “Counsel, narrow it.”

I nodded. “Of course, Your Honor.”

I turned back toward the witness. “Mr. Hale, did your investigation uncover unauthorized transfers from accounts belonging to Mr. Dhark and Dhark Holdings?”

“Yes, it did.”

“Approximately how much?”

The forensic accountant opened the folder in front of him. “Approximately one hundred and seventy million dollars.”

A murmur spread through the courtroom.

I let it.

One hundred and seventy million dollars was a figure that had come up very often in the weeks before now.

I’d seen it in reports, I’d read it in spreadsheets, I’d discussed it in conference rooms until the figure had almost stopped sounding real.

But hearing it spoken aloud in court made it different.

It made it tangible.

I waited until the courtroom settled.

“Was the entire amount transferred in one transaction?”

“No.”

“How was it transferred?”

“Through numerous transactions over an extended period.” Dr Hale answered.

“Did they all appear suspicious at first glance?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Please explain.”

Mr. Hale folded his hands. “Many of the transfers were deliberately structured to appear legitimate. Some were recorded as business expenses, while others were presented as investments. Some passed through intermediary accounts or corporate entities that appeared unrelated to Ms. Sterling.”

“Yet you eventually connected them.”

“Yes— through pattern analysis.” He picked up one of the exhibits.

“When transactions are viewed individually, they can appear unrelated. But when they’re analyzed collectively—the timing, the destinations, amounts, originating accounts, subsequent withdrawals and so on —the pattern becomes considerably clearer.”

I approached the evidence screen to get a better look of the timeline.

Rows and rows of transactions, dates, amounts, account numbers, company names and transfers lined the screen.

The sheer volume of it made me a little dizzy.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify