I Inherited Trillions, Now What?-Chapter 135: Day Of Reckoning

"Olivia, we can't do this," a man said, his voice low but firm as he held back a woman who was adamant about entering an apartment building. The woman, who appeared to be in her late forties or early fifties, turned sharply at his resistance. Her dark eyes, filled with frustration and determination, locked onto him as she snapped.

"John, what the hell are you doing? Why are you holding me back?" she demanded, her voice rising with anger as she struggled against his grip.

John, younger but visibly tense, glanced around nervously. His grip on her arm tightened slightly as he pulled her back another step. "Olivia, you know why! We can't do this!"

"Are you insane?" Olivia shouted, yanking her arm free. Her breath was heavy, her fury unmistakable. "Like hell we can't! Weren't you there with me? Didn't you listen to that poor girl? Didn't you hear what she said? And now, the bastard who did that to her is in there—living his miserable excuse of a life like nothing happened! And you're telling me we shouldn't go in? That we should just walk away? Are you out of your damn mind?" Her voice cracked with emotion, her fury barely containing the anguish underneath.

John exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Olivia, I know. I know why you're feeling this way. But it's because I was there, because I listened to her, that I'm saying we can't do this." His voice was steady, but his expression was conflicted.

Olivia scoffed, her hands curling into fists. "So you're protecting a pedophile now? A monster who preys on children? A girl who was sixteen, John! She's just a kid! And if we don't get her justice, this will destroy her. Men like him ruin lives and get away with it because of excuses like this!" She took a breath, shaking her head. "I won't let that happen. Not on my watch. So either you stand with me, or you get the hell out of my way."

John swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. "Olivia, listen to me! The girl said she wasn't sure. She was hazy when it happened. Four months ago, she couldn't even remember a face, and suddenly, she 'remembers' him after seeing him drop his daughter off at school? But she still doesn't recall where it happened. How it happened only guesses. That she was drugged in a bar then that's all. Just that she thinks she heard his voice? Do you hear how shaky that sounds? Four months, Olivia. Any shred of DNA evidence is gone. We don't have enough to charge him. We don't even have enough to bring him in for questioning. If we walk in there now, we'll be throwing away the only chance we might have at getting real evidence."

"You know damn well that hearing a voice can trigger buried memories," Olivia shot back. "It's not about logic, John! It's how trauma works! She was terrified, drugged—who knows? And seeing him, hearing him, it jogged something loose. Just because we don't have a neat little package of evidence doesn't mean we turn our backs on her! That's exactly how monsters like him keep walking free!"

She yanked her arm away from his grip, her eyes burning with rage and conviction. Without another word, she turned on her heel and marched toward the door. John sighed in frustration but followed after her.

"Olivia, please. Let's go back. Let's gather evidence first. There's always something if we look hard enough. We can start with his known associates. We can—Olivia! Olivia!" He called after her, his voice growing more desperate as she ignored him completely.

Reaching the door, Olivia stretched out her hand, her finger hovering over the doorbell. John's heart pounded as panic surged through him.

"Olivia, wait!"

But it was too late. She pressed the bell instantly.

John inhaled sharply, cursing under his breath. "Shit." His gaze darted around the hallway as his mind raced. "He's not here. Let's go, Olivia. Avery's back at the station—maybe she's remembered something else. We should talk to her first."

But as if fate itself was mocking him, the door swung open.

A man stood there, a polite smile on his face. His voice was smooth, effortless.

"Hello, how can I help you?"

A kind-looking family man opened the door, his warm smile meeting them as he said, "Hello, how can I help you?" His voice was calm, welcoming—almost disarming.

John immediately stepped forward, forcing a polite smile. "Oh, sorry about that. It seems we have the wrong house," he said, grabbing Olivia's hand, urging her to leave. But she wasn't having it.

Her gaze hardened as she stood her ground. "Are you Richard Miller?" she asked, her voice firm, unwavering.

The man blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Yes, yes, I am. Is everything okay?" he asked, his tone laced with confusion.

The moment he confirmed his identity, Olivia didn't hesitate. In one swift motion, she reached into her back pocket.

"Mr. Miller, you are under arrest for the rape of a minor." Her voice was cold, authoritative, and before he could react, she snapped the handcuffs onto his wrists with practiced efficiency.

Richard froze for a split second before his expression twisted into shock. "What? What the hell are you talking about?" he shouted, struggling against the cuffs. "What are you doing? Hey, hey! Let me go!" His voice rose in panic, his body jerking against the firm grip Olivia had on him.

His protests were cut off when Olivia continued, her voice unwavering. "Your crimes against sixteen-year-old Avery Thompson."

At that name, Richard's face paled. "What are you saying?" he demanded, his voice now laced with desperation. "I don't even know anyone by that name!"

A sudden voice rang out from inside the apartment. "Honey? What's going on? Who's at the door?"

The officers turned their heads just as a heavily pregnant woman stepped out onto the porch, her eyes scanning the scene. She carried a plate in one hand, but the moment she saw her husband in handcuffs, the dish slipped from her fingers, shattering against the floor.

"Richard?" she gasped, her voice thick with alarm. "What's happening?" Panic flooded her features as she rushed forward, her swollen belly making her movements clumsy. "Where are you taking my husband? Who are you people?" Her voice cracked with distress. "Release him now!"

Richard, now being guided toward the patrol car, quickly turned to her, his voice softening despite the situation. "Sweetheart, baby, please—calm down," he urged. "This isn't good for you, not in your condition. Just breathe, alright? It's all a misunderstanding. I'll be out soon, I promise." His voice wavered, but he forced a smile. "Don't stress. Don't worry, Paula."

But his attempt to soothe her fell flat as the officers pushed him into the backseat of the car.

Paula's breathing grew erratic, her gaze darting between her husband and the officers. "What are you people doing?" she demanded, her voice rising. "On what grounds are you arresting him?" Her shock quickly morphed into anger. "My brother-in-law is a lawyer—a powerful one! If you don't release him right now, I swear I'll—"

Olivia, already walking toward the passenger side of the car, cut her off. "Ma'am, if you have any concerns, you're welcome to come down to the precinct." She didn't even spare Paula a second glance as she reached for the car door.

Paula was still seething, but then Olivia dropped the bombshell. "And unlike what your husband just told you, he's being arrested for the rape of a sixteen-year-old girl."

Silence.

The color drained from Paula's face as her breath hitched. "Rape?" she whispered, the word tasting foreign, wrong, impossible.

Without another word, Olivia slipped into the car, shutting the door behind her. She turned to John, who was gripping the steering wheel tightly. "Drive."

Outside, Paula stood frozen, her mind racing. Then, suddenly, a sharp pain tore through her abdomen. Her hands flew to her belly as she grimaced, wincing in pain.

"Mom!" A frantic voice called from behind. "Mom, are you okay? Where's Dad?"

Paula turned sharply, spotting her teenage daughter rushing toward her. Gritting her teeth, she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

"Brittany," she said quickly, urgency in her tone. "Get my phone and car keys. Now. We're going."

The girl didn't hesitate.

Paula straightened up, her face a mask of determination. She wasn't about to let this go.

Inside the dimly lit interrogation room, Richard Miller sat stiffly across from Olivia, his hands shackled to the metal table. Olivia's piercing gaze bore into him, her voice dripping with disgust as she leaned forward.

"You disgust me," she spat. "Raping a girl the same age as your daughter. And not just that—she's even in the same class as her!"

The disdain in her eyes was unmistakable. Richard, however, remained stone-faced.

"I bet you didn't expect this, did you? You thought you got away with it, thought you were in the clear. Well, guess what? Justice has finally caught up to you, you bastard."

She let her words sink in before continuing, her voice laced with venom.

"Tell me, Richard, how did it feel? Thinking you had gotten away with it? Destroying a young girl's innocence—was it thrilling? Did it make you feel powerful? Were you happy?"

Richard exhaled sharply and looked at her. "I'm not saying a damn thing until my lawyer gets here."

Olivia smirked, unimpressed. "Fine, we'll give you your one phone call. Go ahead, call him."

"Thank you," Richard muttered.

But before he could revel in the tiny victory, Olivia added sharply, "Just one thing—your own daughter."

Richard's eyes snapped up, his expression darkening. "Be very careful with what you say next."

Olivia leaned in, unfazed. "Oh, so you do have a conscience? Interesting. Just makes me wonder, though... The girl you violated is the same age as your daughter. And now that we know you have a preference for young girls, I can't help but ask—should we be concerned for her safety? Should we be making arrangements to have her looked after?"

Richard's face twisted with rage. "You bastard! You goddamn bastard!"

His voice reverberated through the room, but Olivia didn't flinch. She just kept going. "And your wife... let's just hope she gives birth to a boy. If not—"

"You're a fucking lunatic! I swear to God, I'm going to sue your ass! You're mad! You hear me? You're mad!"

Richard was shouting now, his face red with fury, but Olivia met his rage head-on.

"Oh, you don't like this? Then answer me! Where were you on the night of November 23rd, 2024? What were you doing?"

"I don't know! How the fuck would I remember something from that long ago?!" he yelled back.

"According to your schedule, that was the night of the World Doctors Conference," Olivia pressed. "A conference that happens once every five years—a date that should be pretty damn memorable. So answer me, Richard! Where were you? Was it at Smokey's Bar? Is that where you found little Avery? Is that where you picked your victim? Answer me!"

"I was at home!" he barked. Then, as if grasping for control, he took a deep breath and lowered his voice. "I was at home. I remember because my wife made spaghetti and meatballs that night. I went straight home after the conference. Now, can I get my fucking phone call? And let me make this clear—I am innocent! I didn't do this!"

Just beyond the interrogation room, in a separate observation area, John stood behind the one-way glass. Beside him were two figures: a teenage girl, visibly tense, and an older woman who bore a striking resemblance to her.

John glanced at the girl. "Avery, are you sure he's the one?"

Avery swallowed hard, her hands clenching into fists. "Yes," she said firmly. "I remember now. I saw his face. He's the one who raped me in that hotel room."

John turned to her, his brows furrowing. "Wait—you remember his face now?"

Avery nodded. "Yes. Before, I wasn't sure. But seeing him now, I know. It was him."

John hesitated, then asked, "But earlier, you said you thought it happened in a car. How does a hotel room come into this now?"

Avery's face went pale, her body shaking slightly. "I... I thought it was a car at first, but maybe he took me to a hotel room instead. I don't remember everything. I was drugged! I told you that! I didn't know where I was or how it happened, but I know his face! I know his voice! He raped me!" she yelled, her voice breaking.

The older woman beside her, Avery's mother, immediately wrapped her in a protective embrace. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry. You're safe now, okay?" she whispered before turning to John, her voice laced with fury. "What the hell is this? Are you interrogating her now? She's the victim! What kind of cops are you? My daughter is still traumatized!"

John sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I was just doing my job."

"Then fucking do it!" the woman snapped. "I want that man locked up for life after what he did to my baby!"

A sudden voice cut through the tension. "What's going on here?"

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Everyone turned to see Olivia stepping out of the interrogation room.

"Nothing," John muttered. Then he asked, "Did he admit to anything?"

Olivia shook her head. "No. He still insists he doesn't even know her."

John exhaled sharply. "Then what do we do? We can't hold him much longer. Hell, we probably shouldn't have even brought him in this fast."

Before they could continue, the door swung open violently. Heads turned to see a very pregnant woman barging in, a teenage girl right behind her.

"Ma'am, you can't be in here!" a police officer tried to stop her, but the woman shoved past him.

"You people stormed into my house, dragged my husband away without an explanation, and now you want to stop me? Just wait until my brother-in-law gets here! You're all going to pay! And don't you fucking dare touch my daughter!" she shouted, her voice trembling with rage.

"Hey, hey! Let her go! It's fine!" John's voice rang out, and the officer reluctantly stepped back. "Sorry," he mumbled. "She forced her way in."

John nodded. "It's fine."

The woman, Paula, let out a huff before scanning the room. Her eyes locked onto Avery and her mother.

"Where is my husband?" she demanded, her tone sharp.

Avery's mother didn't hesitate. "Your husband is a monster who did this to my daughter! He deserves to rot in prison!"

Paula's lips parted, ready to argue, but before she could speak, her daughter's voice cut through the room like a blade.

"Avery? Is that you?"

The shock in her voice was unmistakable. The entire room seemed to freeze.

Olivia's gaze flicked between them, then she asked the question lingering in everyone's mind.

"Wait—you two know each other?"

Inside a dimly lit office, Olivia paced back and forth, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. John sat on the edge of a desk, his hands clasped together, his expression tense.

John broke the silence first. "So, Richard's daughter used to bully Avery," he said, his voice measured but firm.

Olivia nodded but didn't stop pacing. "Yes, but that doesn't change the fact that he's still being accused. And that should not change."

John exhaled sharply, standing up. "Olivia, it's totally connected!" he snapped, running a hand through his hair. "The girl—Avery—she just said all that to get back at her bully. Her claims have been inconsistent. She first said she was in a car, now she remembers a hotel room? His wife has also been his alibi, saying he was with her that night—she even confirmed what they ate. The man is a highly respected doctor, a family man with a wife and kid. This could ruin his life. We have to let this go."

Olivia turned sharply to face him, her eyes blazing. "She said her memories were jumbled! Of course, she's not completely sure, but I believe her. Did you see how she shook when she saw him? The emotions in her eyes? She's telling the truth, John!"

John sighed, his voice lowering but still firm. "Olivia, I'm sorry, but the cold, hard facts are what I'd rather go for. And everything we have is saying he's innocent."

Olivia narrowed her eyes. "Why are you so adamant about proving she's wrong? You've been in this job long enough to know that no evidence doesn't mean he didn't do it. Why are you supporting him so much?"

John's jaw tightened, his frustration boiling over. "Because innocent until proven guilty, Olivia! That's why! That's why I'm doubting her! The man sounds like a decent person! We can't let this ruin his life without solid proof!" He exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. "That's why I asked them to release him."

Olivia's eyes widened, and she took a step toward him. "You did what?" she hissed. "How could you do that?"

She turned abruptly, heading for the door, but John followed quickly. "His lawyer—his wife's brother-in-law—is Carter Litt. That's why I let him go. We do not need a powerful man like that breathing down our necks, Olivia."

She wasn't listening. She yanked the door open, only to find another officer standing there, his hand raised as if he'd been about to knock. The three of them froze for a brief moment, shocked by the unexpected interruption.

The officer, catching his breath, looked between them with urgency in his eyes. "You all have to see this."

Richard stood outside the station, embracing his wife tightly. His arms wrapped around her as if shielding her from the nightmare of the past few days. His daughter stood to the side, her face soaked in tears, her body trembling as she wept.

"Dad, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" she sobbed, her voice cracking. "I didn't know she would do that! I swear, I didn't know! I— I shouldn't have bullied her. I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

Her mother's voice cut through the moment like a blade. "Sorry? Sorry?! Do you have any idea what you've done? Do you—"

"Hey, honey, it's okay." Richard's voice was firm yet gentle as he turned to his wife. "Don't shout at her. It's over now." He pulled his daughter into his embrace, stroking her hair as she cried against his chest. "It's okay, baby. I forgive you. We'll move on from this, alright?"

She nodded weakly, still crying. He kissed the top of her head before turning back to his wife. "Let's leave this place. I'm tired of being here."

Just as they were about to go, voices erupted from behind them. "Richard! Richard!"

Richard turned his head, irritation flashing in his eyes. The two officers who had arrested him earlier were approaching with purpose. His blood boiled.

"What now?!" he bellowed, stepping forward. "Have you come to apologize? Well, it doesn't change anything. I am going to sue you people for everything!"

Before he could continue, Olivia's voice sliced through the air. "Shut up!" She marched forward, gripping his wrist and snapping the handcuffs back onto him.

"What the hell—?!" Richard roared as his wife screamed, and his daughter shrieked, "Daddy! Daddy, what's happening?!"

Richard thrashed in their grip. "What are you doing?!" he yelled.

Olivia's eyes burned with fury. "We found out what you are, you lying piece of shit." She shoved him toward John, who secured his grip on him. Olivia then turned, her gaze locking onto Paula, who was still shouting in protest. Without hesitation, Olivia stepped closer, her voice venomous.

"As for you," she spat, "I am highly disappointed. You are a mother yourself! And yet, you enable this kind of behavior? You defend it? What kind of woman are you?! What kind of mother are you?!" Her words struck like a whip, and Paula's breath hitched, her face paling.

Richard lunged forward, his voice ragged. "Don't you dare talk about my wife like that! What right do you have?!"

Olivia turned her scathing glare back to him. "You still have the mouth to talk, huh?" Her lips curled in disdain. "Let's see how much you'll talk when we show you the footage of you entering the bar."

A deadly silence fell over them. Richard stiffened, his lips parting slightly in disbelief. His wife took a shaky step back.

Olivia tilted her head mockingly. "I thought you went home, huh? Thought you ate spaghetti, huh? You lying piece of shit."

John tightened his grip and started pulling him inside. "Carry him in. I'm calling the prosecutor."

Panic surged through Richard. "Wait! Wait! You have it all wrong! Y-yes, I went to the bar, but I didn't do anything! I just had a couple of drinks before going home! I swear! I panicked before, that's why I lied! But I didn't do anything! I swear I didn't!"

His protests fell on deaf ears as they dragged him into the station.

Just before Olivia followed, Paula's trembling hand grasped her arm. "Wait! I'm telling the truth! We did eat spaghetti that night! I promise! My husband didn't do this!"

Olivia turned to her, eyes cold and unwavering. "You better call that brother-in-law of yours." She hissed and yanked her arm free, storming inside.

Richard's daughter screamed after her mother as they followed him into the station. Olivia was about to head inside when someone called out.

"Olivia."

She turned sharply, irritation flashing in her eyes. "What is it, Mark? I'm busy right now."

Mark hesitated, then said, "I assure you, you'll want to see this."

She narrowed her eyes before sighing. "Fine."

Following Mark down the corridor, they entered a small office. As Olivia stepped inside, her eyes landed on a woman sitting in the chair. She was beautiful—strikingly so. But that wasn't what caught Olivia's attention.

Bruises marred the woman's body, dark and glaring against her skin. Her clothes were torn in places, and there was something about the way she sat, rigid and composed, that sent a chill down Olivia's spine.

Olivia took a slow step forward, keeping her voice steady. "Ma'am, are you okay?"

The woman's cold eyes met Olivia's. When she spoke, her voice was devoid of emotion.

"No, I am not okay. I was raped."

Olivia's stomach tightened. "By who, ma'am?"

The woman's lips parted, and her next words came out in an eerie, haunting calm.

"I was raped by Alexander Blackwell."