𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 56: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐌𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐀 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐞

𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚’𝐬 𝐍𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬°°°

“Objection!” Mrs. Polenta barked. “The defense is badgering the witness.”

“Sustained,” the judge said, though the firmness in her tone had begun to waver.

Mateo pivoted smoothly. “Then let’s call our next witness — Officer Vargo.”

A Maverick uniformed security officer stepped forward, he'd caught them the night they were leaving.

Under oath, he testified that the alleged ‘kidnap’ was nothing more than a misunderstanding — because Sophia, a detective, who had also been present in the hospital, had motioned for him to let Nevena and the boy go.

Breanna’s head snapped around, eyes burning daggers at Sophia. But it was useless now — the damage had been done.

And then, just when everyone thought Mateo was done, he raised a hand. “Your Honor, the defense calls three more witnesses.”

Gasps swept through the room. He named them one by one — the driver who dropped Nevena and Junior back at the hospital, the cab driver she took to the mall, and the driver who brought Junior back to her house unaware.

For each witness that stepped forward, their account about the case aligned perfectly. And to seal it up, Mateo presented surveillance clips — one for each testimony.

Even Sophia’s.

The courtroom buzzed like an exposed wire.

Finally, he called Junior for another cross examination.

After being sworn in, Mateo approached him with a softer tone.

“Junior,” he began gently, “did anyone ever force or persuade you to lie in your earlier testimony?”

The little boy shook his head. “No, sir— she's my best friend.”

“Oh really” Mateo raised a brow, “Why then do you lie against your best friend?”

"I never wanted her to leave New Mexico” Junior tone cracked, his small palm clutching a folded sweet wrap “I pleaded with her to reconsider going, but bestie wouldn't”

“Hence your false allegation” Mateo chipped in, patient.

“Yes” Junior smooch his lollipop, his small shoulders lifted like one who just achieved a big feat. “If Bestie goes to jail, I will be visiting Mummy's station to see her everyday”.

The courtroom rippled with laughter, even the judge’s lips twitched with a restrained smile.

Mateo smiled faintly and dismissed him, then he turned toward the bench. “No further questions, Your Honor.”

The judge composed herself, adjusting her glasses. “Counselor Polenta, given the evidence and witnesses presented, do you wish to counter or cross-examine?”

Mrs. Polenta’s confidence was gone, because it was obvious that the tide had shifted. “No, Your Honor.”

“In the absence of further objections,” the judge announced, her voice regaining authority, “this court will proceed with its verdict.”

The room fell still. Even the hum of the ceiling fans seemed to falter.

She glanced down at the verdict papers before her, then back up at the silent room. “In light of the evidence presented, and the proven falsification of witness testimonies from the prosecution…” She paused, letting the words settle like thunder before the strike.

“…the defendant, Nevena Bachvarov, is hereby released from custody. Unanimously.”

For a moment, there was silence…then a burst of gasps and scattered applause rolled through the spectators bench.

Nevena’s lips parted, but no sound came. Her hands only found the edge of the defense table, gripping it like a lifeline.

The gavel struck once more. “Court rise.”

She rose to the final seal of her freedom, while the prosecutor packed up her files with visible annoyance.

Even after the judge left, Nevena remained rooted, her hands still gripping the table. Speechless.

Mateo leaned close. “Told you we’d make it,” he murmured. “It’s over, Miss Bachvarov. You’re free.”

She turned to him, eyes glassy, smile fragile. “Free…” she whispered, as if tasting the word. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Mateo’s hand brushed her shoulder gently. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

She nodded and followed numbly. Halfway down the aisle, she stopped and glanced toward the back corner, where she'd last seen the figure.

But the seat was empty now.

“Is something wrong?” Mateo asked, noticing her abrupt pause.

“No,” she murmured, forcing a small smile. “Nothing.”

They stepped out into the blinding daylight and the courthouse steps erupted in chaos.

Reporters pressed forward, flashing cameras and thrusting microphones t in her face.

Their voices screaming over one another:

“Miss Nevena, any comment?”

“Did your government send delegates to you?”

“Do you mind sharing who funded your counsel?”

Private security guards stepped in from nowhere, forming a barrier, but the noise pressed on.

Each question stabbed through the fog around her, but Nevena didn’t answer.

Mateo shielded her from the cameras with one arm as they pushed through the noise, down the marble steps.

At the base of the stairs, he stopped and turned to her. “Unfortunately, Mrs. Bachvarov, this is where we part ways.”

She looked at him — exhausted, grateful. “You really saved me, sir. Thank you.”

“It wasn’t me,” Mateo said quietly, adjusting his tie. “But whatever you meant to your benefactor… it was strong enough to move mountains overnight.”

He handed her a slim file. “Believe me, Mrs. Bachvarov — that last-minute stunt didn’t come cheap.”

She looked up, question in her eyes, but before she could ask what he meant, a sleek black car pulled up.

Mateo nodded once. “If you ever figure out who he is,” he said, stepping into the car, “don’t waste time wondering why. Just find him — and use the chance.”

The door shut, and the vehicle pulled away

Somewhere beyond the courthouse precinct, a black Maybach engine purred low as it rolled away.

Inside, Antonio exhaled slowly, his gaze lingering only once before the tinted glass swallowed the world.

Beside him, Grinch handled the wheel in silence , disappearing into the city's traffic.

They hadn’t spoken a word since they sent Junior into the courtroom with the bag— now the silence between them only got thicker.

“So what next?” Grinch broke it, drumming a lazy rhythm against the steering wheel.

Antonio didn’t answer, he only arched his brows, like he’d already guessed what Grinch was going to say next.

“She’s already out,” Grinch continued. “When’s the cream pie coming in, huh?”

“You talk too much for a consigliere.”Antonio exhaled.

“And you brood too much for an underboss,” Grinch shot back.

Antonio’s eyes stayed forward for a while, “I won't force a thing, everything with happen at its pace"

"Like she's going to walk into your bed one day and offer her p*ssy” Grinch countered with a dry chuckle. “Come on — stop pretending it’s only about the p*ssy, when it's obvious that you’re just waiting for a fairytale romance to unfold.”

Antonio ignored him, pulling out his phone.

He stared at it for a moment, thumb hovering over the screen. Then he locked it, slid it away

“Drive to the ceremony,” he said at last.

Grinch raised a brow. “I thought you never wanted to make an appearance th—?”

“Yes,” Antonio cut in, voice calm but edged. “But that's the only way to escape a chatter box"

Grinch chuckled, gears shifting as the Maybach merged into the traffic.