Olivia
I woke up the next morning feeling hollowed out, a ghost in my own life. The grand jury was meeting today, but for the first time in my career, I wouldn't be there. I had surrendered. The fight was over.
Ethan was already gone. He'd left a note on the kitchen counter. "Trust me. I love you." The words were a small comfort, but they did little to dispel the heavy fog of my defeat.
I spent the morning in a daze, wandering through the rooms of our farmhouse, a sanctuary that now felt like a cage. I had saved Ethan, but I had lost myself. The silence of the house was deafening.
Around noon, my phone rang. It was DA Thompson. "Turn on the news," he said, his voice electric with an excitement I couldn't comprehend. "Now."
Confused, I turned on the television. Every local news channel was carrying the same breaking story. A press conference was happening on the steps of the federal courthouse. And the man at the podium was my husband.
Ethan stood there, flanked by his father and a team of high-powered lawyers. He looked different. The easy-going charm was gone, replaced by a cold, commanding presence. He looked like his father. He looked like a king who was about to declare war.
"My name is Ethan Brooks," he began, his voice ringing with an authority that silenced the clamoring reporters. "And for the past several weeks, my wife, Assistant District Attorney Olivia Chen, and I have been the targets of a vicious campaign of intimidation and threats by the criminal enterprise run by Michael Connolly."
My heart stopped. What was he doing? He was publicly declaring war. He was making himself an even bigger target.
"Mr. Connolly threatened my life in order to force my wife to drop her investigation into his corrupt activities," Ethan continued, his voice dripping with controlled fury. "She, as a dedicated officer of the court and a woman of unparalleled integrity, chose to protect my life over her own career. She chose to surrender. But I am not an officer of the court. And I am not surrendering."
He gestured to his father, who stepped forward. "The Brooks Corporation and its charitable foundation are immediately freezing all financial dealings with any company or financial institution that has ties to Michael Connolly and his known associates. We are divesting from his stocks, we are calling in his loans, and we are cutting off his access to the capital he needs to survive."
It was a declaration of economic war, broadcast live on every news channel.
But that was just the beginning. Ethan then introduced a woman I had never seen before, a hard-faced journalist with a notepad and a feral grin. "This is Susan Vance," Ethan said. "She is an independent investigative reporter. For the past week, my team and I have been providing her with information. Not just about Michael Connolly's criminal activities, but about the network of corrupt politicians and judges who have enabled him. Ms. Vance will be publishing the first in a series of articles this afternoon."
He was leaking everything. He was bypassing the broken legal system and taking the case directly to the court of public opinion.
And then came the final, devastating blow. Ethan held up his phone, on which a video was playing. The quality was grainy, clearly from a security camera. It showed Michael Connolly Jr. in a hotel room, accepting a briefcase full of cash from a known drug trafficker. And the audio was crystal clear.
"How did you get that?" I whispered to the empty room, my mind reeling.
"Mr. Connolly and his son believed they were untouchable," Ethan said, his voice cold as steel. "They believed their power and their money could buy them silence. But they made one mistake. They threatened my family. And for that, there is no price high enough to pay. The era of Michael Connolly's reign of terror is over. It's over because we, the citizens of this city, will no longer stand for it. The legal system may have faltered, but we will not."
He didn't take any questions. He just turned and walked away from the podium, leaving a firestorm in his wake.
My phone rang again. It was Sarah-Jane, her voice choked with tears. "I saw it," she said. "I saw the news. Is it true? Is it really over?"
"I think so," I said, still in shock. "I think it might be."
I understood now. Ethan hadn't just been protecting me in the shadows. He had been building a new army, a new strategy. He had been waiting for the right moment to strike. He had let Connolly believe he had won, only to unleash a multi-front assault that Connolly could never have anticipated.
He had fought a war on his own terms. He had used his money, his power, his connections, not for personal gain, but for justice. He had become the leader he was always meant to be.
I sank onto the sofa, the television screen a blur of excited reporters. The fog of my defeat was burning away, replaced by the fierce, brilliant light of my husband's love. He hadn't just saved me. He had saved the case. He had saved the city.
He had fought a war for me. And he had won.