He tied me upside down from the ceiling beam and beat my swollen belly for hours, claiming it would force a son to come out. Blood dripped from my mouth and nose onto the floor while he laughed. The pain became too much and I passed out completely. The doctor reviewed the scans with shaking hands: “The fetus is dead and badly bruised… your spine is also damaged from the suspension.”

The tension in the conference room was suffocating.

It was the preliminary deposition. I sat on one side of a long mahogany table, flanked by the ruthless prosecuting attorney, Ms. Sterling, and Detective Vance.

Daniel walked in ten minutes late, radiating an aura of untouchable wealth. He wore a sharp navy suit, his ankle monitor hidden beneath the tailored hem of his trousers. He didn't look at me as he sat down beside his high-priced defense team.

"Let's get this over with," Daniel’s lawyer sneered. "My client is an innocent man being subjected to a witch hunt based on the hysterical allegations of an unstable woman."

Ms. Sterling, a shark in a pencil skirt, didn't even blink. "Is that the official stance of the defense, Counselor? That your client is entirely innocent of all physical violence?"

"Absolutely. The injuries were the result of a tragic accident."

Sterling smiled. It was a terrifying, beautiful smile. She reached into her briefcase and pulled out a laptop.

"Are you aware, Mr. Vance," Sterling addressed Daniel directly, "that filming a felony in progress is, in itself, an admission of premeditation?"

Daniel’s smug expression faltered for a fraction of a second. His lawyer frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Sterling turned the laptop around and hit play.

The video didn't have sound, but it didn't need it. The high-definition footage showed the stark lighting of the utility room. It showed Daniel tying the knots. It showed him hauling me off the floor, suspending me from the beam.

Daniel’s lawyer went completely pale, his mouth dropping open. He turned to look at his client in absolute horror.