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Sweet Unhappy Heart 152
The New Unlisted Witness Third Person's POVThe trial had been proceeding for eight days when everything changed.Vincent Caruso had testified for two full days, recounting in meticulous detail every job Astor Sinclair had hired him for. The dates. The payments. The methods. He'd been cross-examined ruthlessly by Marcus Wright, who'd tried to paint him as a liar desperate to reduce his sentence. But Caruso hadn't wavered. Just told the truth in that flat, emotionless voice that made it somehow more believable.Financial experts had testified about the money trail. Shell companies. Offshore accounts. Payments that coincided exactly with the deaths Caruso described. Wright had objected repeatedly, claiming the transactions were legitimate business expenses, but the timeline was damning.Officer Mackenzie had walked the jury through the investigation. The evidence. The connections. The pattern of violence that stretched back fifteen years.And then, on day nine, Sullivan stood before Ju
Sweet Unhappy Heart 151
Third Person's POVSix weeks after Avery's disappearance, the Federal Courthouse in Manhattan buzzed with an energy that felt almost electric. Media trucks lined the streets. Protesters held signs. Security was tripled because this wasn't just another trial.This was the reckoning of Astor Sinclair.Inside Courtroom 4B, every seat was filled. Journalists with notebooks. Sketch artists with charcoal. Members of the public who'd camped out overnight just to witness history.At the prosecution table sat Barrister Michael Sullivan with his team of three assistant prosecutors. Files stacked neatly. Evidence organized. Years of preparation distilled into this moment.At the defense table sat Marcus Wright with two associates. Expensive suits. Confident postures. The look of men who'd defended the indefensible before and won.And at the defendant's table, wearing an orange jumpsuit that looked obscene on someone who'd spent his life in custom tailoring, sat Astor Sinclair. Handcuffed. Guarde
Sweet Unhappy Heart 150
Third Person's POVThe federal holding facility was a concrete fortress designed to break spirits before trials even began. Cold. Gray. Smelling of industrial cleaner that never quite masked the underlying scent of human desperation.Astor Sinclair sat in his cell, a space barely eight by ten feet, with a metal bed bolted to the wall, a toilet with no seat, and a small metal desk that wobbled when he tried to write. The orange jumpsuit he wore was rough against his skin, a constant reminder that his thousand-dollar suits were gone. His penthouse was gone. His empire was crumbling.But his mind was still sharp.Still planning. Still calculating. Still looking for the angle that would save him.The door opened. A guard stood there, expressionless. "You've got a visitor. Conference room three."Astor stood. Let himself be handcuffed. Let himself be led through corridors where other inmates watched him with a mixture of recognition and contempt. Everyone knew who he was. The news coverage
Sweet Unhappy Heart 149
Third Person's POVThree weeks had passed since Avery Maddox disappeared into the night, leaving behind a trail of broken trust and unanswered questions. Three weeks since Liam Sinclair had taken over his father's empire and started the slow, painful process of dismantling everything Astor had built on lies and corpses.And in those three weeks, the world had shifted in ways no one could have predicted.At Memorial Hospital, Jackson Maddox sat propped up in his bed, a tablet in his hands, his fingers moving slowly across the screen. Physical therapy had started. Speech therapy too. The doctors said his vocal cords were healing but it would be months before he could speak normally again. For now, he communicated through text and gestures and the occasional raspy whisper that cost him everything.Liam sat beside him, as he had every day for the past three weeks, reading through reports from Sinclair Corporation while Jackson reviewed documents for Maddox Corporation. Two CEOs, working s
Sweet Unhappy Heart 148
Third person's POV Third Person's POVThe evening light filtered through the hospital windows in that particular way that made everything look softer than it actually was. Mr. Richard Maddox walked down the ICU corridor carrying a bouquet of white roses, his footsteps heavy, his shoulders slumped in a way that made him look older than his sixty-two years.He'd been a terrible father. He knew that now. Had known it for a while but had been too proud, too stubborn, too caught up in his empire to admit it.But seeing Jackson in that hospital bed, broken because of choices Richard had indirectly enabled by doing business with men like Astor Sinclair, had finally shattered whatever denial he'd been clinging to.The nurse at the station recognized him. "Mr. Maddox. He's awake. Can't speak yet but he's responsive. Go on in."Richard nodded his thanks and walked to Jackson's bay. Through the window, he could see Janet sitting beside the bed, her laptop open, probably working on something for
Sweet Unhappy Heart 147
Third Person's POVOfficer Mackenzie stood in Avery's apartment with Torres and Dove, all three of them wearing gloves and moving carefully through the space like archaeologists excavating a crime scene."Closet's half empty," Torres called from the bedroom. "Expensive stuff too. Designer clothes. The kind you'd take if you were planning to be gone a while."Dove was photographing everything with her phone. "Suitcase is missing from the closet shelf. You can see the dust pattern where it used to sit. And look at this." She pointed to the dresser. "Jewelry box is empty. She took valuables. Things she could sell if she needed cash."Mackenzie walked to the window. It was still open, curtains moving slightly in the breeze. He leaned out, looking down. "Two-story drop. But there's a fire escape. She could have gone down that way if she saw us coming.""Or if she saw anyone coming," Torres added. "She was paranoid. Running scared.""With good reason." Mackenzie pulled back inside. "Let's c
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