Chapter 6 - THE ARRAIGNMENT
The following morning, the Dirksen Federal Courthouse in downtown Chicago was surrounded by a swirling sea of media vans, satellite trucks, and reporters eager to catch a glimpse of the fallen socialite.
Inside the packed courtroom, the air was cool and smelled of polished oak and old legal briefs.
Jessica Vance sat at the defendant’s table, flanked by a public defender who looked entirely out of his depth. Her designer clothes were gone, replaced by a standard-issue orange jumpsuit. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, and the arrogant, untouchable smirk she had worn for years was entirely gone, replaced by a mask of sullen, hateful disbelief.
In the front row of the gallery sat Mark Vance and Arthur Vance Sr., flanked by federal agents and legal counsel. They didn't look at Jessica with anger; they looked at her with the cold detachment one reserves for a dismissed nuisance.
“Case number 2026-CR-4412, United States versus Jessica Vance,” the federal judge announced, adjusting his spectacles. “The charges are wire fraud, money laundering, interstate embezzlement, and assault. How does the defendant plead?”
Jessica’s public defender stood up, clearing his throat nervously. “Not guilty, Your Honor, at this time—”
Before the lawyer could finish his sentence, Jessica violently shoved her chair back, standing up and pointing a trembling finger directly toward the gallery where Mark sat.
“You’re all hypocrites!” Jessica shrieked, her voice echoing off the high vaulted ceilings of the courtroom before the bailiffs could grab her arms. “Mark knew about the accounts! Arthur knew the money was coming from the subsidiary funds! They used me as the scapegoat to save their own skin!”
“Order in the court!” the judge banged his gavel furiously. “Bailiff, restrain the defendant!”
Four bailiffs swarmed Jessica, pinning her arms behind her back and forcing her down into her chair as she continued to scream curses and accusations at the top of her lungs.
Mark didn’t flinch. He didn’t react to her frantic lies. He simply watched as the gavel came down with a sharp, final crack.
“Defendant is remanded to federal custody without bail,” the judge ruled coldly. “Trial is set for November fourteenth. Court is adjourned.”
As Jessica was dragged out through the side doors, kicking and screaming against the bailiffs, the courtroom slowly emptied.
Mark stood up, buttoning his suit jacket, and looked down at his grandfather.
May you like
“It’s over,” Mark said quietly.
“It’s not over, son,” Arthur replied, standing up with the aid of his cane. “It’s just beginning. A family tree can only grow strong when you prune away the rotten branches.”
