Chapter 12 - Depositions, Panic Attacks, and the Crumbling Facade
The following week, the formal legal depositions began in the state supreme court. Derek, having been denied bail following his violent attack in the parking garage, was escorted into the deposition room in orange Department of Corrections scrubs and handcuffs.
Sitting beside him was a tired, overworked public defender; his previous high-powered attorneys had dropped him after discovering his frozen accounts meant he couldn't pay their retainer fees.
Across the table sat Harrison Vance, my father, and me.
For eight grueling hours, Harrison dismantled Derek’s entire history of deceit piece by piece. Whenever Derek tried to lie, Harrison introduced another piece of undeniable evidence: Vanessa’s signed affidavit, the recovered hard drives from the safe, the time-stamped audio recordings from my wedding dress microphone, and the financial forensic reports.
“Mr. Sterling,” Harrison asked, leaning forward, “did you or did you not intentionally manipulate corporate accounts to siphon funds into an unauthorized shell corporation?”
Derek looked at his public defender, who simply shook his head, offering no objection.
“I... I invoke my Fifth Amendment right,” Derek muttered, staring at the polished table, unable to meet my gaze.
“And regarding the incident at the wedding reception,” Harrison continued, “did you smash the cake into Miss Montgomery’s face as a premeditated act of humiliation to establish psychological control?”
Derek’s breathing became rapid and shallow. He began to hyperventilate. The realization that every single abusive tactic, every private threat, and every financial crime was now on public record was crushing him.
“I want to leave,” Derek gasped, clutching his chest. “I can’t breathe. I need a doctor!”
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The deposition was temporarily suspended as paramedics were called to treat Derek for a severe panic attack. The man who had spent years making me feel small, worthless, and terrified was now having a total psychological breakdown under the weight of his own consequences.
I walked out of the courthouse that afternoon into the crisp autumn sunshine, feeling lighter than I had in years. The truth hadn't just set me free; it had completely eradicated my captor’s power.
