Jane POV

I sat on the cold wooden bench, my hands folded tightly in my lap. My heart rang in my chest like a war drum.


The courtroom smelt like polished wood and faint paper and everything felt too bright and too open and I felt like I was being watched from every angle, because I was

The judge entered and everyone stood. My knees trembled, but I forced them to stay locked. I lifted my chin and tried to look strong. But inside, I was crumbling.

I looked across the room and Hades sat in the defendant's chair. His face was unreadable. It was calm, too calm. That cold mask he wore so well was still there. But his eyes flickered when he met mine. Something stired there. It was a shadow, maybe guil or calculation? I didn't know and didn't want to know.


Emily sat nearby, she was avoiding my eyes. Her hands kept wringing her skirt, and her mouth pressed in a tight line. She looked pale, smaller than usual and I remembered the party. The dress she picked for me and the drink she gave me and the laugh she forced.

My lawyer squeezed my hand. It was time.


I walked to the witness stand. Each step felt like I was dragging chains, the room was silent except for the clicking of my heels. I swore in and the Bible felt heavy in my hand and then I sat.

My voice shook at first and I started with my name, my role and my history with Hades. I talk about the business meetings, the polite smiles, the ignored warnings and then I talk about the obsession. The party, the text and the strange ways he always showed up. And then I talked about that*

night and my hands trembled and my throat burnt.

"He was there, at the party. I didn't know he would be there, I was told it was a networking event..."

I described the drink, the dizziness and the way the room started spinning and how I kept laughing even though I didn't feel like myself and how my body felt detached from my mind.

"I remember, hands on my waist. Warm breath, laughter that wasn't mine. I remember, faces blurring and then darkness."

I paused and tears spilled over but I didn't wipe them.

"The next morning, I woke up in a hotel suite, naked, next to him. And then I saw Hades."

The room was quiet and even the judge leaned forward. "I didn't remember everything, it was just flashes. But I knew. I knew something was wrong."

I talk about shame and horror and how I threw up in the bathroom, how I stared at myself in the mirror and wondered how I got there. How I let this happen. How he made this happen.

"I didn't consent. I couldn't. I was not in my right mind. And he knew it."

My voice steadied and my spine straightened "He used my vulnerability. My trust and he violated it."

Silence.

I glanced at Hades, his jaw was tightened and his fingers drum softly on the table.

My lawyer asked more questions and I answered all of them.

Then the cross-examination came and Hades' attorney was a woman, with slick hair, and sharp words.

"Miss Grande, were you drinking willingly?"

"I trusted my friend. I didn't know what was in the drink."

"But you drank it?"

"Yes."

She paced, "And you interacted with Mr. Hades at the party?"

"I didn't know it was him. I was heavily intoxicated."

"But you smiled? You laughed?"

"Because I was drugged, not because I consented."

Her mouth tightened, she tried to twist my words but I didn't let her. I stayed strong, clear and firm.

"I didn't say yes. I couldn't say yes. That is not consent."

Gasps echoed quietly from the back rows.

The judge called for a break.

I stepped down. My legs were shaking, but I walked with my head held high.

I see Emily in the hallway. She avoided my gaze, but I didn't care.

I did what I came here to do and I told the truth. I spoke for the woman who couldn't speak that night. The version of me that was silenced.

Hades POV

I sat in the courtroom, cold sweat slided down the back of my neck. The judge hasn't even spoken yet, but I felt like I was already on trial, not just in front of the court, but in front of the world.

Cameras weren't allowed inside, but it didn't stop the weight of their invisible presence from pressing down on me.

My collar felt so tight, even though this is a tailored suit. My fingers twitched against the polished wood of the defense table.

I glanced to the side and Jane was seated across the room. Her back was straight and her face was unreadable. She didn't look at me, not once, but I felt her silence more than I would have felt her words. It was sharp and punishing.

And then the trial began.

Her lawyer stood and started with a quiet, steady tone. Then Jane took the stand. When she walked past me, her heels clicked against the floor and I caught her scent.

It was the same one she wore when we first met and for a second, I closed my eyes, just a second and I remembered chasing her through meetings, pitching offers just to be near her. That fire in her eyes. The way she never needed me, and maybe that was why I wanted her.

She started to speak.

Every word hit like a slap and she talked about the betrayal, the confusion, the drugged drink and the blurred memories.

She said she remembered waking up and feeling disgusted, ashamed, trapped, my jaw tightened, but I didn't interrupt and I didn't even flinch, I just listened and I allowed her to speak.

Because what could I say? That I planned the party and rold Emily to bring her?

That I stood by and watched as she spun deeper into a daze and that I had waited so long, that I had chased her so hard, and when I finally had her, it wasn't enough?

No. I stayed silent.

They play the footage, but not everything, but enough. I saw myself at the party, laughing and rinking.

I saw myself watching Jane dancing, smiling, stumbling and my hands onher waist.

Her head resting on my shoulder and I could feel the audience in the room shift, their judgment crawling up my spine. I didn't blame them. They should judge me.

But part of me, the dark part, the real me, feels no regret.

I remembered that night clearly and how she leaned into me, how she whispered something, too drunk to know what she was saying.

How I kissed her, and she didn't pull away. How I carried her to the car. How I laid her on silk sheets.

I remembered her softness, her warmth, her lips moving without thought. She was sweet, sh was so sweet.

She had always been mine, in my head, but that night, she was mine finally.

Even if it was just for a moment.

She finished her testimony and there was silence in the courtroom and the judge nodded to the next lawyer, but I barely hear it. I was locked in my own thoughts and her words echo.

Consent, betrayal and trust.

I didn't believe that I raped her. I didn't force her, but that was the problem and I planned it.

I manipulated it and I made it easy for her to fall. I made sure she wouldn't remember it clearly. And I liked it that way.

I pressed my palm against my mouth. I needed to look composed and I needed to hold on to what little image I had left. But inside, I was hollowed, burning and angry.

Not at her, but at myself.

Because even now, even after all this, I still wanted her. God help me, I still wanted her.

And that was the most twisted truth of all.