CHAPTER 140
SKYLAR'S POV
The federal courthouse felt like a battlefield disguised as a monument to justice. Marble columns and American flags couldn't hide the tension crackling through the air as I walked up the steps flanked by U.S. Marshals, reporters shouting questions I couldn't answer, and camera flashes that turned the morning into a strobe-lit nightmare.
Inside, the courthouse was a maze of security checkpoints and armed guards. Everyone who looked at me seemed to know exactly who I was and what I represented - either the key witness who would bring down a major criminal organization, or the traitor who'd sold out the only people who'd ever truly loved her.
Both versions were true, depending on your perspective.
"Ms. Mitchell?" A woman in a prosecutor's suit approached, her expression professionally neutral. "I'm Assistant U.S. Attorney Sarah Goldman. We need to review your testimony before the hearing."
She led me into a small conference room where my recordings from the past few days were already loaded onto a laptop. As we listened to William's voice explaining his vision for "regulated human trafficking," I watched Goldman's face grow progressively darker.
"This is... comprehensive," she said finally. "How long were you gathering evidence?"
"Since the moment he tried to recruit me," I said. "I knew he was dangerous, but I needed proof of his crimes before I could act."
"And your friends? The men who are being arraigned today?"
"They had no idea what I was doing. I couldn't risk compromising the investigation by telling them."
It was a carefully constructed lie that contained just enough truth to be believable. The recordings proved William's guilt, but they also painted me as a federal informant rather than an unwilling participant in his schemes.
"The defense is going to argue that you're lying to save yourself," Goldman warned. "They'll claim you were a willing participant who's now trying to shift blame."
"Let them try. The evidence speaks for itself."
Goldman nodded and closed the laptop. "The arraignment is in twenty minutes. After that, we'll need to discuss protection arrangements. William Kane has significant resources and a long reach."
As she left the room, I was alone with my thoughts for the first time in days. Somewhere in this building, Harry, Jax, and Lucas were probably being prepped by their lawyers, trying to understand how everything had gone so wrong so quickly.
They probably thought I'd betrayed them. Hell, maybe I had.
The conference room door opened, and my heart stopped. Jax walked in, flanked by two marshals and looking like he hadn't slept in a week. Behind him came Harry and Lucas, their faces showing a mixture of relief and wariness that cut through me like a knife.
"Five minutes," one of the marshals said. "No physical contact."
We stared at each other across the small room, three feet of space that might as well have been an ocean. I could see the questions in their eyes, the hurt and confusion and desperate hope that there was an explanation for everything that had happened.
"Are you okay?" Jax asked quietly.
"I'm fine. Are you? All of you?"
"We've been better," Harry said, his voice carefully controlled. "Want to tell us what the hell is going on?"
I looked at the marshals standing by the door, knowing they were listening to every word. Whatever I said here would be reported back to the prosecution, analyzed for inconsistencies, used to build or destroy the cases against all of us.
"I had to make a choice," I said finally. "Between saving you and saving them."
"Them?" Lucas asked.
"The children in those photographs. The girls who are still being trafficked while we sit in courtrooms and play legal games." I met each of their eyes in turn. "I chose to save them."
"By working with William," Harry said. It wasn't a question.
"By gathering evidence against William. Everything I did, every choice I made, was designed to build a case that would destroy his entire operation."
"Including testifying against us."
"Including doing whatever was necessary to stop him."
The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken accusations and broken trust. I could see them trying to decide whether to believe me, whether the woman they loved was still in there somewhere or if she'd been completely consumed by the mission.
"The recordings," Lucas said suddenly. "You've been recording everything."
"Everything," I confirmed.
"Including our conversations. Our plans. Our... private moments."
The hurt in his voice was like a physical blow. "Lucas..."
"No, I get it. We were assets to be managed, intelligence to be gathered. Just like everyone else in your father's world."
"That's not true."
"Isn't it?" Harry stepped forward, his face hard. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you played us exactly the way your father would have. Made us love you, trust you, depend on you, and then used that against us when it served your purpose."
"I never stopped loving you," I said desperately. "Any of you. Everything I did was to protect you."
"By sending us to prison?"
"By making sure you survive long enough for the truth to come out."
Jax had been quiet through the exchange, studying my face with the intensity he usually reserved for tactical planning. "What's the endgame?" he asked finally.
"William goes down. His network gets dismantled. The children get saved. And we..." I swallowed hard. "We figure out how to live with the choices we made."
"Together?" The hope in his voice was almost unbearable.
"If you'll have me. If you can forgive me for what I've become."
"Time's up," the marshal announced.
As they were led away, Harry turned back to look at me one more time. "The woman we fell in love with would never have sacrificed us to save strangers."
"Maybe," I said. "But the woman you fell in love with couldn't have saved anyone."
The door closed behind them, leaving me alone with the weight of what I'd done and the terrible certainty that even if I won this war, I might lose everything that mattered to me in the process.
But as I walked toward the courtroom where I would either save or damn the men I loved, I realized that my father had been wrong about one thing.
The most dangerous weapon wasn't someone who could kill without conscience.
It was someone who could love completely and still choose duty over desire when lives hung in the balance.
The question was whether that choice would destroy me or define me.
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