The Wife he threw Away (Claire and Lucian) novel Chapter 308

The judge immediately struck his gavel.

“Order!”

I remained standing, completely still.

For a moment, I couldn’t hear anything except the pounding of my own heart.

Then I continued the questioning. “Did Eva want us dead?”

Hart’s expression was grim. “She wanted you out of her way.”

“That’s not my question.”

He swallowed. “Yes, ma’am. She wanted you dead.”

I closed my eyes for half a second, then opened them again.

“And you carried out her instructions?”

“Yes.”

I looked down at my notes.

There were still more questions.

But before I continued, I needed to establish something.

“Mr. Sullivan,” I called. “Everything you’ve told this court so far—are you saying you were forced to do these things?”

“No.” He answered immediately.

“Are you saying Eva controlled every decision you made?”

“No.”

“Are you claiming you are innocent?”

Once again, his answer came immediately. “No.”

I looked at him carefully. “You shot and stabbed Lucian Dhark on different occasions. Correct?”

Hart nodded. “Yes.”

“Did Eva instruct you to do that?”

He shook his head. “No.”

That answer got the attention of everyone in the room.

“You acted on your own?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Hart looked like he wanted to speak, then stopped.

His eyes darted around the room like he was searching for Lucian.

“Because I hated him.”

“Why did you hate Mr. Dhark?”

“Because I blamed him for taking Eva from me.”

I nodded. “So that was entirely your decision?”

“Yes.”

“Not Eva’s?”

“No.”

I let the silence linger before I turned toward the jury again.

I wanted to make sure they were understanding exactly what was happening.

Hart wasn’t handing us every crime he had committed and blaming Eva for all of them.

He was separating them—taking responsibility for what belonged to him.

And giving us the truth about what belonged to her.

I looked back at him.

“Mr. Sullivan, you understand that admitting you attacked Lucian doesn’t help your case?”

“I understand.”

“You understand that admitting you tampered with Margot Sinclair’s car doesn’t make you look innocent?”

The attorney walked closer to the witness box. “Yet today you’re sitting here telling this court that she is responsible for crimes you participated in.”

Hart said nothing.

“Isn’t it convenient that you’ve suddenly discovered the truth now that you’re facing a lengthy prison sentence?”

“No.”

“Isn’t it true that you were offered you a reduced sentence in exchange for your testimony?”

I watched Hart’s jaw tighten.

The attorney continued. “Two years instead of potentially ten?”

Hart looked at him. “Yes.”

The attorney cocked his head toward the jury, confident that he was making a solid point. “So you’re doing this for yourself.”

“No.”

“You expect this court to believe that?”

“I’m taking the deal because I want to face what I did.” Hart stated, his voice steady.

The attorney opened his mouth again.

Hart didn’t wait.

“But I’m testifying because what she did was never mine alone.” He answered.

I felt something shift in the courtroom.

Eva stared at him with wide eyes, but he didn’t look away.

For the first time that morning, I watched Eva’s composure crack.

Her blue eyes narrowed. Her lips parted like she wanted to say something.

Then one of her attorneys whispered something in her ear—she swallowed whatever she wanted to say immediately.

And that’s when everyone finally started seeing the truth—

Hart wasn’t just trying to save himself.

He was finally telling the truth.