𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 91 : 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐟 𝐋𝐚𝐰 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐎𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫.

𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚’𝐬 𝐍𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬°°°

Liza walked slowly, hands clasped white-knuckled. She didn’t look at Antonio as she took the stand, but he was watching her every move— maybe resent or remorse.

She swore in without blinking, awaiting the prosecutor's question.

“Mrs Liza Minnelli— native of Sombra Azul and also John Minnelli mother?” the judge read from the file in front of him, and she replied with a nod.

“Counselor!” the judge called, slouching forward, toward the prosecutor. “You can go ahead”

The prosecutor adjusted his cufflinks and called up Antonio to the stand, then he turned to Liza with a confident aura. “Mrs Minnelli— do you know this man?”

The courtroom held its breath as Liza scrutinized Antonio from head to toe.

“Yes” she managed after a long pause. “I know him”

“Okay” the prosecutor clasped his hands in triumph, dismissing Antonio. “Ma’am can you please give this court an account of how he murdered your Willow.”

“Willow?” Liza repeated —only this time her voice cracked on her son’s name, but she pushed strong.

“Oh yes”

She looked straight at the prosecutor and shook her head. “No one murdered my Willow. He only died out of my negligence at the Sundance ritual .”

A low murmur rolled through the gallery. “That's a lie” Breanna sprang, adrenaline sprawling through.

“Order!” The bailiff barked. “Detective, sit down.”

“But she is ly—” Breanna presses, but the prosecutor shot her a warning glance and she settled back, fingers digging into the armrest.

The prosecutor studied Liza for a long beat and asked, “Ma'am! Are you sure about this?”

“Very accurate” her voice was clear, unhurried.

Mateo, who had been hanging on every word, exhaled slowly. Antonio did the same—though no one noticed.

The prosecutor’s tone sharpened at once. “Ma’am, why then did you voluntarily attest in writing that you saw him slit your son’s throat?”

“I'm sorry”

“Is anyone coercing you to say otherwise… don't worry, you have the court with you” the pitch of the prosecutor’s voice dropped as he tried to play into Liza’s core.

“Nobody did,” Liza maintained with a smile, which Antonio knew was hollow, cause it didn't reach her eyes.

He slowly tilted his head, as if looking for a particular face, but he faced Liza after a while.

“I was drowning in grief at the time of the testimony— I needed someone to blame so I could breathe.” Liza held her supinated palms together and faced the judge.

“Please forgive me Sir. What could this mother have done? I lost a husband and I couldn’t bear losing my son too. I'm sorry for wasting your time.”

“That’s a lie, Your Honor,” Breanna burst out again, rising. “Antonio must have intimidated her—”

Forfeiting the protocols, she jumped over the prosecutor's desk and rushed at Liza as she was getting off the stand. “Ma'am Liza you had attested to all of this earlier with vivid explanation. Don't be scared— he is a danger to society and should never see the outside of a supermax again.”

The court watched in awe at the unfolding drama, Antonio with an emotionless expression leaned on the defendant's desk, putting everything together.

Liza exhaled slowly and shrugged off Breanna's hand, "Sorry to disappoint you Detective. I can't watch an innocent man go to the gallows.”

“Innocent my foot!” Breanna spat, glaring at Antonio. “Last time I checked, he's a continuing threat, life without parole is the only just—”

“Order! Order” the judge cracked the gavel. “Prosecutor please remind your client that this is a court room— such unprofessionalism won't be tolerated. One more outburst and you’ll be removed.”

The prosecutor rushed and pulled Breanna back towards their desk, in that same seemingly moment, the double door at the rear swung open. The gallery murmured in unison.

Antonio looked once at the entrance extremity, and his eyes locked on the figures.

A caregiver was pushing Nevena on a wheelchair, IV drip swaying gently. Grinch walked close behind, holding a black suitcase.

Nevena’s eyes met his for three heartbeats. No nod. No gesture. Just a long, final, silent stare as the caregiver positioned her near the defense table, stabilizing the wheels.

Grinch continued to Mateo's corner and dropped a file in front of him, whispering a few words.

A determined smile curled Mateo's lip after Grinch's information, and that was when Breanna knew that a heavy bombshell was about to drop.

“Counselor. Mateo,” the judge said, voice edged with irritation, “your client waived mitigation. What is all this?”

“Your Honor,” Mateo rose, adjusting his cufflink with calm precision, “my client did instruct me not to call witnesses. But circumstances have changed.”

A low murmur rippled through the room at his revelation but he continued, voice steady. “With your permission, I would like to present evidence and call one witness.”

The judge scowled. “I didn’t expect this from counsel of your caliber. I’ll allow it to slide —this once. Permission granted.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.” Mateo bowed slightly. “I call Nevena Bacharov. A key witness in this whole case.”

Antonio’s brow arched sharply. He shot a look at Grinch to stop this —but Grinch just sat there, arms folded, face carved with seriousness.

The caregiver wheeled Nevena and her IV to the stand and she was sworn in, voice thin but steady.

She gave a clear, unvarnished account: Breanna’s obsessive pursuit, repeated arrests and accusations that nearly cost her life, the night armed men— not police —stormed into their arrest, instead of a lawful team.

“Are you certain the men Detective Stewart brought were not officers?” Mateo asked again.

“Yes,” Nevena replied. “The bullet wound I suffered came from one of them during a heated argument with Detective Stewart.”

She turned to the judge. “I assure you, Sir, Mr. Hunt is not the monster Detective Breanna portrays. In the chaos of gunfire he could have escaped— but he stayed to protect something fragile. Men like that deserve recognition, not a life sentence.”

Tension crackled through the room, buzzing everywhere.

Mateo passed a file to the bailiff. “Your Honor, I request permission to cross-examine Detective Stewart.”

“Irrelevant and prejudicial—”. The prosecutor objected.

“Permission granted,” the judge grunted after flipping through the new file in front of him.

Breanna took the stand again, jaw tight as the cross-examination began.

Mateo’s voice was calm, surgical. “Detective, did you or did you not request assistance from Victor Loa and Cesar—known arms traffickers—to apprehend Mr. Hunt?”

Breanna’s eyes narrowed. “Is not so, I just utilized available resources—”

“Did New Mexico suddenly run out of police officers?” Mateo cut in. “Or did you deliberately reach out to criminals because this whole charade had always been based on personal grudge?”

“Objection—speculation.”

“Sustained,” the judge countered the prosecutor. “Detective Stewart answer the question.”

Breanna’s neck veins stood out. “Your Honour, the investigation required every tool— he’s just trying to change the fate of this case. Destroyer of law and ord—.”

“Destroyer of law!” Mateo didn’t let her finish. “How can a Detective who runs a stripping hustle call someone else a destroyer of law. Or is that just another rumor?”

The gallery gasped. Breanna’s face flushed crimson. “That’s irrelevant and defamatory—”

“Is it?” Mateo pressed. “As a detective you can operate outside the law and also accuse my client of being a threat to society… hypocritical.”

“Enough,” the judge snapped. “Counselor, watch your tone.”

Mateo bowed slightly. “Apologies, Your Honor. No further questions. But in the file, is attached a flash that shows that Detective Stewart isn't fit to tag anyone else a hypocrite. Moreover I've also submitted the detailed account of the embezzlement she accused my client of.”

Breanna stepped down, fury radiating off her in waves. The judge looked between the parties, then at Antonio.

“Mr. Hunt,” he said quietly, “anything you wish to add?”

Antonio met the judge’s gaze. “No, Your Honor.”

“Okay” Judge Harlan exhaled. “The court is in recess for thirty minutes while I review the new evidence. When we return, I will render sentence.”

The gavel cracked and the room erupted in murmurs as people rose.

Antonio remained seated, eyes fixed on Nevena. She looked back—once—then let the caregiver wheel her out.