Chapter 9 – [THE FALL OF THE QUEEN]

Six months later.

The courtroom was silent as the judge slammed his gavel.

“Margaret Harrington,” the judge’s voice boomed. “For the crimes of kidnapping, embezzlement, extortion, and conspiracy to commit murder, I sentence you to life in prison without the possibility of parole.”

Margaret stood at the defense table.

She looked nothing like the elegant woman who had tormented the Moretti household. Her hair was graying at the roots, her skin sallow. She wore a standard orange jumpsuit instead of emerald silk.

She didn’t scream this time. She just stared blankly at the floor.

I sat in the gallery, my hand perfectly entwined with Dominic’s.

Grace sat on his other side, holding Evelyn’s hand.

When the bailiff escorted Margaret out, she stopped for a brief second to look at us.

“You took everything from me,” Margaret hissed.

“No,” Grace said firmly, standing up. “You took everything from yourself.”

Margaret was led away in chains.

“It’s really over,” Grace sighed, leaning her head on Evelyn’s shoulder.

“It is,” Dominic agreed. He looked at me, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Ready to go home?”

“Always,” I said.

We climbed into the waiting town car.

The drive back to the estate was peaceful. The iron gates, which had once felt like a prison to Leo, now stood open, welcoming us.

When we walked inside, Mrs. Ellis was waiting in the foyer.

“Welcome home, everyone,” she smiled.

“Thank you, Mrs. Ellis,” I said. I wasn’t wearing a maid’s uniform anymore. I wore a tailored navy dress, and the diamond ring on my finger sparkled in the chandelier light.

“Sir, Mr. Leo is in the garden,” Mrs. Ellis told Dominic. “He asked for you when you returned.”

Dominic nodded. “Let’s go see him.”

We walked out to the sprawling gardens. The roses were in full bloom.

Leo was sitting on a stone bench, sketching in a new notebook. But he wasn’t drawing iron gates anymore.

He was drawing the flowers.

“How was the trial?” Leo asked, not looking up from his page.

“It’s done,” Dominic said. “She’s gone for good.”

Leo stopped drawing. He looked up at his brother, then at the sky. “It feels strange. Being free.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Dominic promised.

Leo smiled. “I want to show you both something.”

He turned the sketchbook around.

It was a drawing of the three of us. Dominic, me, and Leo, standing together in front of the house.

“It’s beautiful,” I said softly.

“I’m glad you like it,” Leo said. “Because I’m going to start painting again. Helen said she’d help me set up a studio in the sunroom.”

I beamed. My mother had officially moved into the guest house on the estate, spending her days cooking with Mrs. Ellis and acting as a surrogate mother to Leo.

Everything was perfect.

But as we turned to walk back inside, my phone buzzed in my purse.

I pulled it out.

It was a text message from an unknown number.

She may be in a cell. But her friends are still outside.

My blood ran cold.

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