Chapter 145 145. Plea Hearing
Chapter 145 145. Plea Hearing
"I feel like a ghost haunting my own life," I whispered into the plastic receiver. "I spend every second counting down to a moment I can't even see yet. It's cold, Lucien. It's loud. And it smells like nothing but iron and bleach."
I searched those golden eyes for the grounding weight I usually found there. Lucien's gaze darkened, his hand tightening on his own phone. He leaned closer to the glass, his presence so intense that the sterile visiting room seemed to shrink around us.
"You are not a ghost," he corrected, his tone dropping into that low, possessive baritone that made my skin hum. "You are the only thing in this world that is real to me. If it were up to me, I would tear these walls down with my bare hands just to touch you for one second. You belong in my bed, under my skin, not in this pathetic excuse for a building."
Those words, they felt like a balm to the isolation I'd felt for fourteen days.
"I'm holding onto the memory of your hands," I confessed. "It's the only thing that keeps me from losing my mind here."
"Keep holding it. I am waiting for you. I don't care if it's one year or a lifetime. I will be the first thing you see when those gates open. I'll be the one to pull you out of the dark and remind the world that you belong to a man who doesn't allow his Queen to stay in a cage. You aren't alone, Camila. I'm right there in that cell with you, every night."
A small, wet laugh escaped me, and I glanced at Maya. She was hovering at his shoulder now, her face a mask of crumpled relief and frantic joy. Lucien shifted the phone toward her, giving us a moment.
"Oh my God, Cami!" Maya shrieked into the line, her voice so loud it made me wince and smile at the same time. "I have missed you so much I've been crying every single day. I almost broke into the precinct last week because they wouldn't let us in."
"Liar. I bet you've been enjoying having the house to yourself and hogging the remote."
"Stop making me laugh while I'm trying to be supportive!" she protested, wiping a stray tear. "I haven't even turned on the TV once. It's too quiet. Even Rafael is being all moody and quiet. We need you back to keep the boys in line."
The light moment was brief. Lucien took the phone back, his face shifting into something more focused and professional. He glanced over his shoulder at the guards lining the back wall before leaning in again.
"We are still onto Rhys."
"Any good news? What's the plan?"
"We can't discuss that here baby. Just know that I'm not just sitting around waiting for a calendar to flip. I'm working, Fiera. Always."
It made sense. Conversations in jail were always recorded. So I nodded.
I reached out, pressing my palm flat against the thick glass. Lucien did the same, his much larger hand lining up with mine. For a heartbeat, I could almost imagine the heat of his skin through the cold plexiglass.
"Hey! No touching the glass!" a guard hissed, rapping a baton against the metal frame of the booth.
A flash of defiance sparked in my chest, but I pulled my hand back. Lucien didn't even look at the officer. His focus remained entirely on me, a steady, unwavering anchor.
"I'm not going anywhere," he promised. "I've spent thirty-two years looking for a reason to be a better man, and I found it in you. If you spend fifteen months in there, I'll spend fifteen months building a world worthy of you. I'll be here every visiting day. I'll write every letter. I'll be the shadow that never leaves your side."
I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to breathe. The two weeks of punishment had been designed to make me feel forgotten, but Lucien was making it impossible. He was cementing my strength, layer by layer.
"I love you," I whispered, the words fogging the glass.
"I know," a faint smirk touched his lips. "And I'm going to spend the rest of our lives proving I love you more."
"Two minutes, Sterling," a guard whispered. I wished I could stay on this phone forever, but I had to go.
We hung up at the same time, but neither of us moved. We sat there, hands pressed against the glass again despite the officer's glare, drinking in the sight of each other for as long as they'd let us.
When they finally made me leave, I walked back to my cell with my head higher than it had been in weeks. I could do this. I could survive this. Because Lucien was waiting for me. My family was waiting for me. My life was waiting for me.
The days that followed were filled with legal preparation. Rosalind was a constant presence, finalizing the details of the plea.
The morning of the hearing, I was dressed in a clean set of scrubs. They transported me to the courthouse in a van that rattled with every pothole. The courtroom was small, but Lucien was there, sitting in the front row. He looked like a king among peasants, his presence commanding the room even as he remained silent.
I stood beside Rosalind as the judge reviewed the documents. My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. I looked at the floor, the polished wood reflecting the fluorescent lights, and thought about the babies I wanted, the books I had to write, and the man I needed to go home to.
"In light of the evidence provided regarding the circumstances of the initial incident and the defendant's lack of a prior criminal record, the court accepts the plea of Aggravated Assault with the recommendation of trauma-informed care," the judge's announcement echoed in the quiet room.
"Camila Sterling, you are hereby sentenced to fifteen months imprisonment in a minimum-security facility."