Marrying My Father's Enemy-Chapter 132: Court Of Secrets

Chapter 132: Court of Secrets

The courthouse steps were crowded with reporters and cameras.

Paparazzi swarmed like bees, shouting questions and snapping pictures as Henry stepped out of his sleek black car.

"Mr. Callahan! Is it true you’re accusing your wife of murder?" one reporter yelled, shoving a microphone toward him.

"Any comment on the paternity scandal?" another shouted.

Henry ignored them, walking slowly toward the courthouse entrance with his lawyer by his side.

The air was electric.

On the other side, another car pulled up.

Beatrice stepped out...

Her lawyer was walking behind her, carrying a briefcase.

The cameras whipped around to catch her. "Mrs. Blackwood, is it true you forged contracts in the family business?"

"Mrs. Blackwood, are you prepared to defend against the murder accusation?"

Beatrice smirked but said nothing. She didn’t need to.

Her confidence was loud enough.

Inside, Eira decided to sit in the back row of the courtroom.

She had carefully avoided the reporters, slipping in through a side entrance.

She didn’t want to be seen as taking sides.

She crossed her arms, her face seemed to be impassive as she watched Henry take his seat at the plaintiff’s table.

Beatrice, across the aisle, sat as though she were on a throne.

The mood between them was like oil and water. This wasn’t just a divorce—it was war.

The Court started.

The judge entered, and the room fell silent.

"All rise," the bailiff announced.

Eira stood with the rest, her stomach tightened.

This wasn’t her fight, but it was impossible not to feel the stress of what was about to happen.

"Court is now in session," the judge said, settling into her seat.

She glanced at the documents before her.

"We are here today to hear the case of Henry Blackwood versus Beatrice Blackwood. The charges include breach of contracts, fraudulent paternity, and wrongful death accusations. Counsel, you may proceed."

-Henry’s Case-

Henry’s lawyer was a sharp man in a gray suit. He rose first.

He approached the jury in a cold and controlled voice.

"Your Honor, my client, Mr. Henry Blackwood, has spent years trapped in a web of lies spun by his wife. For over two decades, Mrs. Blackwood deceived him, leading him to believe he was the father of her child. She manipulated him for financial gain, power, and control. But worst of all—" he paused, his voice hardening—"she is complicit in the murder of Helen Gray."

A gasp rippled through the room.

Eira’s heart thudded painfully, but she kept her face neutral.

The lawyer turned to the judge.

"We have evidence that Mrs. Blackwood forged documents, siphoned funds from the family business, and orchestrated events that led to Helen Hax’s untimely death. We will prove that her actions were premeditated and malicious."

Beatrice’s Defense was strong.

Beatrice’s lawyer stood up calmly but his voice was demanding as well.

"Your Honor, my client categorically denies these baseless accusations. Mr. Blackwood is using this court to distract from his own guilt. For years, he controlled Mrs. Blackwood, forcing her to remain in a toxic, abusive relationship. And now, when she stands up to him, he slanders her with accusations he cannot prove."

He turned to the jury, softening his tone. "Mrs. Callahan is the victim here. She is not responsible for Helen Hax’s death. The true villain in this story is Mr. Blackwood, who is desperate to rewrite history and shift blame away from himself."

Eira’s perspective on the case was nothing but painful.

She was shifting in her seat, her hands clenched tightly in her lap.

Both sides hurled accusations, dragging Helen’s name through the mud.

Her mother deserved peace, but this trial was unearthing every dark secret she had been tied to.

Eira glanced at Beatrice. She looked calm, almost amused.

Henry, on the other hand, leaned forward, his jaw set.

’They’re going to destroy each other,’ Eira thought. ’And they don’t even care who gets caught in the crossfire.’

Henry’s lawyer stood again, speaking louder now.

"Your Honor, I’d like to present DNA evidence proving that Vanessa Blackwood is not Mr. Blackwood’s biological daughter."

The courtroom exploded with whispers.

Beatrice’s composure changed for the first time, her lips parted in shock.

"Order!" the judge demanded, slamming her gavel.

Henry’s lawyer continued, holding up a document.

"This paternity test shows that Mrs. Blackwoos lied to my client for twenty-two years, claiming that Vanessa was his child. She deceived him, knowing it would secure her position and financial stability. This was not a mistake—this was fraud."

Beatrice shot to her feet. "That’s a lie!" she screamed.

"Mrs. Blackwood, you will remain seated," the judge said sternly.

Beatrice sank back into her chair, her face was redder than tomato.

She whispered something to her lawyer, who scribbled notes furiously.

Henry, for his part, seemed relaxed.

He didn’t even look at Beatrice. His focus was on the judge, the jury, and the truth he believed he was exposing.

Beatrice’s lawyer stood to counter.

"Your Honor, we question the validity of this test. It was performed without my client’s consent and is therefore inadmissible."

Henry’s lawyer smirked. "Consent isn’t required when fraud is involved. My client has every right to confirm the truth after being lied to for decades."

The judge looked between them. "I’ll allow the evidence for now. But tread carefully, counsel."

Beatrice glared across the aisle at Henry. "You think this will make you look better? It won’t. Everyone will see you for the monster you are!"

Henry finally spoke, "The only monster here is the one who killed Helen and lied to her family. You’ll get what you deserve."

From the back of the courtroom, Eira watched the two of them tear into each other.

She felt no satisfaction, no joy—only a deep, aching emptiness.

They were both guilty in their own ways, she realized.

Beatrice had taken her mother’s life, and Henry had stolen everything else.

And now, they were fighting over scraps, trying to prove who was the bigger victim.

The judge called a recess, and the courtroom began to clear.

Eira stayed seated, looking at the empty chairs where Beatrice and Henry had sat moments before.

She didn’t know what the verdict would be, but one thing was clear: no one would walk away from this unscathed.

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