Chapter 7 - The Deposition
Six weeks later.
The pre-trial deposition room at the Manhattan District Attorney’s office was quiet, illuminated by the pale afternoon light filtering through the high windows.
I sat at the end of the long oak table, flanked by Sarah and the prosecutor, Elena Gomez.
Across from us sat Daniel, wearing a beige prison uniform, looking gaunt, hollow, and exhausted. His hands were uncuffed for the deposition, but two armed correction officers stood right behind his chair.
Beside him sat his attorney, Richard Vance, looking defeated.
Over the past month, every attempt Daniel had made to secure bail had been rejected. His mother had been forced to sell her personal mink coats and designer handbags at a consignment shop just to afford a small one-bedroom apartment in Queens.
“Mr. Sterling,” Prosecutor Gomez opened the thick file on the table. “We are here to present the formal plea terms offered by the District Attorney’s office.”
Daniel looked up slowly, his voice raspy and broken. “What are the terms?”
“In exchange for a full guilty plea to Class D Felony Assault, grand larceny, and corporate fraud,” Gomez read, “the State will recommend a consolidated sentence of seven years in state custody, with eligibility for parole after four years, alongside full restitution of $4.8 million to Apex Capital.”
Daniel gasped, his hands shaking as he gripped the edge of the table. “Seven years?! Richard, do something! I can’t do seven years in prison! Look at me! I won’t survive!”
Richard Vance sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. “Daniel, if we go to trial, the prosecution will introduce the 4K security footage of you striking Evelyn, the medical reports of her broken ribs, and the testimony of your former associate, Chloe Miller, who has fully cooperated with the SEC.”
Daniel’s head snapped toward me, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Chloe... Chloe testified against me?!”
“Chloe handed over every text message, every bank transfer, and every gift record you gave her,” Sarah Vance interrupted smoothly. “She’s turned state’s evidence in exchange for immunity.”
Daniel fell back into his chair, covering his face with his trembling hands, weeping silently. The powerful, proud man who had demanded I apologize on my knees six weeks ago was completely crushed.
“Evelyn...” Daniel sobbed through his fingers. “Evelyn, please... look at me. I’m sorry. I swear to God I’m sorry! I was out of my mind... my mother was pressuring me... the business was falling apart... please don't let them send me away for seven years!”
I looked at him across the table, feeling no anger, no hatred, and no desire for revenge.
Only a cold, absolute sense of justice.
“Daniel,” I said softly, my voice steady and completely calm. “When you struck me that night, you thought you were breaking a weak woman who had nowhere to go. You thought your mother’s word was law, and that your power was absolute.”
Daniel looked up, tears streaming down his hollow cheeks.
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“You didn't break me, Daniel,” I continued, standing up slowly. “You just broke the cage I had put myself in. Take the plea deal. Because if we go to trial, I will sit in that front row every single day until the judge gives you fifteen.”
I turned and walked toward the heavy oak door, my heels clicking firmly against the floor, leaving Daniel Sterling alone with the consequences of his actions.
