"'Imprisonment' is a false accusation, Your Honor.
"I protected my wife from prying journalists and gossipmongers who only sought out to besmirch her reputation with rumors about her mental health."
"It is a false accusation, Your Honor. I have not, in any manner, used my son or any cash, to blackmail and extort advantages from the mentioned corporate and government individuals.
"I simply brought along my son because he wanted to be in my presence at all times. We had strong parent-child attachments especially when he was young."
"I do not admit to the fault, Your Honor. The actresses gassed themselves in the room and sought to put the blame on myself and Mr. Michael Horan.
"They were resentful that I refused to yield to their requests of speaking to casting directors to give them unfair advantage."
"I did not conceal the death of Elliot's biological mother Sophia Chase. I was not aware of her death. We had not spoken in many years."
"Dylan Grady's death is nothing but suicide, Your Honor. I refuse to yield to forcible interrogations that attempt to sully my reputation and undermine the very foundations of my family."
"Your Honor, as the head of Lockwood Co., I have spent the chief of my life contributing back to the economy.
"Generating jobs. Creating products that bettered the lives of our citizens.
"I might have lacked in many ways, but I always sought to set an example, to give back to the community."
The court trial with Richard Lockwood as defendant, did not come to an end even after a whole year passed.
Names of many more individuals- victims and accomplices- came up, implicated in crimes of bribery, embezzlement, fraud, murder and others. That included Gerald.
Elliot did not once step into court.
Landon maintained his distance as well, until Richard one day said before the judge-
"Your Honor, I have always sought to contribute back to the community. For example, I have adopted Alex Chase and brought him up as Elliot Lockwood."
His lip curled in disdain, Landon announced in court, "Elliot is my father's biological son. And he was physically, psychologically abused by myself and my father."
Even the fifty per cent of the public who'd been giving Richard Lockwood the benefit of doubt, completely turned against the man after the one testimony from Landon.
With simple genetic testing and additional testimonies from individuals like Dr. Maloney, Landon's statement was not hard to prove.
Some video clips and voice recordings from Isabella were leaked to the public.
Officially and irrevocably, Richard had become the national son of a bitch.
My father Michael Horan was in court trial for his role as an accomplice in murder.
His name was cleared for all other crimes. I didn't watch any of his court trials.
~ * ~
12 years later
"You and Elliot broke up that day you stayed over at the hotel?"
"That evening," I nodded, and pointed to the bag of coffee beans with a grin. "A decaf cup?"
"Oh, yes, please."
The sharp smell of coffee beans permeated the cafe. Outside, a few customers were bathing themselves in the afternoon sun, tucking into croissants, bagels and coffee.
I handed a cup of coffee to Bianca, who sat at the window seat flipping through a kids' toys catalogue on her tablet.
"Bloody hell, how I missed this smell."
Putting her nose to the coffee cup, Bianca inhaled long, and exhaled, groaning.
"I swear, this is a legally permitted drug. By the way, did absolutely nothing happen between you two the day you stayed over? In the same hotel room?"
She leveled me with an openly skeptical look.
"As I'm repeating for the thirtieth time, nothing," I chuckled.
Pointedly, Bianca stared at me.
Shrugging, I smiled, walking over back to the counter. "What?"
"You know, you've changed. Since high school."
Cutting the stems of the tulips behind the counter, I laughed. "You've been telling me that every year you fly over. For the past twelve years."
"You treat people with smiles. You don't have so much anger in you anymore. It shows in your face. Maybe it's the weather in Italy doing you good."
"Fuck you."
"Taking the 'no anger' part back. You still have a lot to learn from your husband." At the last word, Bianca wriggled her eyebrow.
"What's up with that gross face?"
"It's not we're seeing each other for the first time in many years. But sometimes I still can't believe you're already thirty."
"So are you. Although a month younger."
Swallowing a gulp of the coffee with clear relish, Bianca said a little loudly, "And you're having a wedding next week."
I put a finger over my lip, glancing at the few customers who were reading books or were on their laptops, indoors.
"We were already legally married since last month. It doesn't make a difference."
"It sure does to him. I think he's going around every place in Italy telling strangers, acquaintances and friends that you two are getting married."
After chucking the snipped off ends of the stems into the trash bin, I gathered the handful of tulips and put them into the vase, smiling slightly.
"That's embarrassing."
"What's up with that gross face? God, are you that in love?"
Clearing my throat, I poured a basin of water into the vase.
"And I still can't believe you're pregnant."
"Yeah I still can't believe it, either."
Staring morosely into the cup of coffee, Bianca let out a loud, sharp exhale.
"I can't believe it's goodbye to caffeine for the next seven months. Oh, Ester just texted. She just landed at the airport."
~ * ~
Jakob Schmid nodded.
"Thank you very much for your time. I just have one last question for you. You're quite a celebrity now in France, Mr. Lockwood.
"You have become especially well-loved for putting much deserved spotlight on neglected artworks by marginalized groups of artists. What inspires you most in your career as art director and curator?"
With a smile, Elliot gestured to Jakob Schmid.
"Very likely to be similar to what inspires you the most as journalist, Mr. Schmid. My wife. She's the reason I work in the industry, she's the reason I choose the art works I choose, and she's the reason I do interviews."
Only after he saw the blinking red light of the camera, did Elliot recall that this was being recorded.
Sheepishly, he took a sip of warm water.
Letting out his characteristically rumbling laughter, Jakob Schmid nodded furiously.
"Ah of course of course. My wife's the greatest inspiration for everything I do. Including throwing out the trash late at night and catching the bugs that come in once in a while. Thank you again for your time, Mr. Lockwood."
Getting to his feet, Jakob tucked his laptop into his suitcase.
"Can I treat you to a drink? I'm sure you'd know France as well as a native by now but- there's an absolutely killer place down the street."
Drinking, and at 4pm? Hesitating, Elliot glanced at his watch.
"You can't reveal everything you feel every single time, Elli. Sometimes, you have put on a mask. That's how socializing works."
Well. His wife's word was the law.
Smiling, Elliot opened the door. "Thought you'd never ask. Please, lead the way."