Chapter 6 - THE PROBATE HEARINGThe Manhattan Supreme Courthouse on Centre Street was surrounded by news vans, flashbulbs, and dozens of armed security guards.
News of the "Lost Heiress of Fifth Avenue" had leaked to the press overnight. Headlines across the country read: DEAD HEIRESS FOUND IN MANHATTAN ALLEYWAY and MAFIA BOSS CLAIMS PROTECTION OVER STERLING FORTUNE.
At 9:30 AM, a fleet of black SUVs pulled up to the courthouse steps.
Marco and four armed guards formed a defensive ring around the center vehicle. The door opened, and Adrian Kane stepped out, wearing a immaculate charcoal three-piece suit, his coat draped over his shoulders. He reached back into the car and extended his hand.
Wren stepped out onto the snowy steps.
She wore a tailored navy wool coat, high-waisted trousers, and a cream silk blouse provided by Evelyn Reed’s styling team. Her chin-length chestnut hair was styled neatly, framing her striking porcelain face. Beside her walked Evelyn Reed—a formidable fifty-year-old defense attorney carrying a leather briefcase.
The press erupted, flashbulbs popping like lightning strikes in the winter grey light.
“Genevieve! Is it true you were homeless for ten years?!”
“Mr. Kane, are you holding the heiress against her will?!”
“Did Julian Sterling set the fire?!”
Adrian ignored the cameras, placing his hand gently on the small of Wren’s back, guiding her safely up the grand granite steps into the courthouse.
Inside Courtroom 402, Julian Sterling was already seated at the plaintiff's table, surrounded by a team of six high-priced corporate attorneys. Judge Franklin Vance sat above the bench, looking stern and impatient.
When Adrian, Wren, and Evelyn walked in, Julian turned his head. His eyes narrowed as he took in Wren’s appearance. Stripped of the dirt and rags, her resemblance to her late mother, Eleanor Sterling, was uncanny.
“Your Honor,” Julian’s lead attorney stood up immediately. “This hearing is an absolute farce. The young woman sitting across from us is an imposter brought forward by a known organized crime figure, Adrian Kane, in an obvious attempt to extort the Sterling family estate!”
Judge Vance slammed his gavel down. “Order! Counsel, sit down.”
Judge Vance looked down at Wren, his expression icy. “Young lady, step forward.”
Wren felt her heart hammer violently against her ribs. The courtroom felt suffocating, the high ceilings and oak paneling reminding her of a trap. She looked at Adrian.
Adrian gave her a single, firm nod. You belong here.
Wren walked up to the microphone stand in front of the judge’s bench.
“State your full name for the court,” Judge Vance demanded.
Wren took a deep breath, clutching the edges of the wooden podium. Her voice trembled at first, then locked into steady, absolute clarity.
“My name is Genevieve Eleanor Sterling,” she announced, her voice echoing through the silent courtroom. “Daughter of Arthur and Eleanor Sterling.”
Julian stood up angrily. “Your Honor, she has no legal identification! She has spent a decade living as a mentally unstable vagrant! She is incompetent to stand before this court!”
“She has a DNA match, Your Honor,” Evelyn Reed interjected smoothly, pulling a sealed envelope from her briefcase and sliding it onto the clerk's desk. “Conducted three hours ago at Bellevue Hospital’s forensic lab, comparing Miss Sterling’s DNA against hair follicles recovered from her mother’s archived estate jewelry. The match is 99.9% conclusive.”
Judge Vance’s face went pale as he reviewed the certified lab report.
“Furthermore,” Evelyn continued, her voice ringing with authority, “we are filing an immediate motion to suspend Julian Sterling’s interim management of Sterling Global Logistics, pending a federal criminal investigation into the murder of Arthur Sterling.”
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Julian slammed his hand on the table. “This is outrageous! On what grounds?!”
Evelyn smiled coldly, turning toward the gallery doors. “On the grounds of sworn testimony provided by your primary offshore accountant, Julian. Who was taken into federal custody two hours ago.”
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