Chapter 8
Nicholas’s POV
was kept in a specially designed cell, quietly awaiting the court’s verdict.
Six months crawled by. Then, finally, the trial began.
Trevor was wheeled in with his face covered in brutal scars, hidden behind an oversized medica
mask.
The second he laid eyes on me, he lost it–snapped like a rabid dog, trying to launch himself at me right there in front of the judge.
But his body couldn’t keep up with his rage.
His throat had been destroyed. All that came out of him were these guttural, animal–like growls. No words. Just raw hatred leaking from his eyes, burning as if he wanted to rip me to shreds.
And then there was Kylie. She looked like a shell of the woman she used to be, all curled up in :hat wheelchair.
When she saw me, she flinched like I’d raised a hand. Her entire body started shaking like a leaf.
She tried to shrink away, pushing herself deeper into the corner of her seat like she could disappear into it.
Her voice came out all cracked and shaky, barely holding together.
‘Don’t hit me… I was wrong, I’ll be good…”
| smiled–nothing excessive, just enough to make their skin crawl–and they knew it.
Across the aisle, the Langford family’s lawyer sat stiff with righteous fury written all over his face.
The man was glaring daggers at me, like he could slice me open from across the room.
My guilt wasn’t a question in his mind–and in the minds of just about everyone in that courtroom. It was a fact.
All they were waiting for was to hear the death sentence come out of the judge’s mouth. But my lawyer and I?
We sat there stone–still, calm as ever at the defense table, like we’d already read the script and were watching it play out.
Then came the moment we’d been waiting for.
My lawyer reached into his case and pulled out memory cards. He took his time–no rush, no nerves–slid them one by one into the evidence device at the front.
A few seconds later, the main screen in the courtroom lit up, and the whole place went dead quiet.
And then the real story started to play.
A second later, gasps of horror echoed through the room.
On the screen, Trevor was smiling at several men, with malice gleaming.
They were the same men from the monastery.
After My Brother’s Tragic End I Went on a Damnese
9:21 pm G DDD.
“Take that kid and teach him a lesson. Make sure he’s taken care of,” Trevor said, handing over a
stack of cash.
The men grinned lewdly. “Don’t worry, Trevor. We’ll make sure you’re satisfied.”
The next scene showed my brother kneeling on the ground, his frail body getting lashed across the back with a wooden paddle.
The following clips captured brutal footage of his abuse. His screams were gut–wrenching and so cruel that it was unbearable to watch.
The men even jeered, “Scream all you want! No one’s coming to save you!”
I lowered my gaze, fists clenched tightly, doing everything I could to hold back the violent surge of anger building inside me.
At that moment, I regretted letting them die so easily.
The footage switched again.
The bodyguards who had slapped my brother at the wedding now loomed over his dying body with sleazy grins.
In one corner of the video, Kylie was clearly visible. She stood just outside the door, listening to the commotion, then turned and walked away.
The final video clip showed a hotel room late at night.
Trevor, half–dressed, sat on Kylie’s lap, pouting playfully.
“Kylie, what if Cameron holds a grudge against me? I mean I did it all for your sake…”
Kylie gently stroked his back and laughed softly.
“Don’t worry. He loves me too much. He’ll do whatever I say. Besides, his parents were nobodies. Even if they’re dead, no one will come looking…”
Then, she pushed Trevor down onto the leather sofa.
Gasps rippled through the audience, followed by angry murmurs that built into full–blown
outrage.
“Beasts! This is inhuman!”
A middle–aged woman shot up from her seat, shaking with fury. Her voice cracked halfway through the words, but the rage in her eyes said enough.
The juror beside her leaned in and muttered, “The Langford family always acted so high and mighty… who knew they were garbage behind closed doors?”
In the back row, young reporters had their phones out, their thumbs racing as if their lives depended on them. Their faces changed from disbelief to disgust to a sharper emotion of opportunity.
“That poor boy… he couldn’t have been more than a kid…” one of the female jurors whispered through tears.
She held a crumpled tissue in one hand, her mascara running in wet streaks down her cheeks. Her shoulders shook, but she didn’t look away from the screen.
The trial continued, but the Langford Group faltered quickly outside that courtroom. Their stock price nosedived like a plane losing both engines, falling to its daily limit in under ten minutes.
2/3 85.2%
9:21 pm
The ultimate irony came when the judge called for a recess.
Right then, like they’d been waiting in the wings for their cue, a team of prosecutors marched into the courtroom. No hesitation. No ceremony. They walked straight up to Kylie’s father anc slapped his cuffs.
Turns out, all that digging? It had paid off. The feds had traced a web of dirt back decades–tax fraud, bribery, corruption, all hidden under the Langford name.
The empire they’d built, all those years of power and influence? It collapsed in front of everyone, like a cheap house of cards. One wrong move, and it was gone in an instant.
When the trial wrapped, I walked past Kylie, our shoulders nearly brushed.
9:21 pm G
