I walked into my fiancé’s townhouse expecting to ask for his passport number. Instead, I found his twenty-two-year-old housekeeper kneeling on the marble floor, crying and protecting her stomach while he stood over her saying, “Get rid of that baby. It will destroy my career.” Adrian thought I was simply the woman he planned to marry. He had forgotten what I did before we met.

The morning of Adrian’s criminal trial, the county courthouse was packed to capacity.

Adrian sat at the defense table wearing a plain, ill-fitting grey suit—a stark contrast to the tailored designer outfits he had once worn with such arrogance. His defense team looked exhausted and defeated before the proceedings had even begun.

Before the jury could be brought into the courtroom, Adrian’s lead attorney stood up and addressed the bench.

“Your Honor,” the attorney announced in a subdued tone. “My client wishes to change his plea.”

A sudden hush fell over the packed gallery.

Adrian stood up slowly, keeping his head bowed low as he faced the judge.

“Mr. Sterling,” the judge said sternly. “How do you plead to the charges of felony extortion, witness tampering, and filing false official reports?”

Adrian swallowed hard, his voice barely audible. “Guilty, Your Honor.”

The judge looked over his glasses at Adrian with unyielding severity.

“In accordance with the plea agreement negotiated with the District Attorney, I hereby sentence you to seven years in state prison, followed by five years of mandatory probation,” the judge ruled, slamming his gavel down. “Furthermore, you are ordered to pay two point five million dollars in restitution to the victims.”

The bailiffs stepped forward immediately, turning Adrian around and clicking metal handcuffs over his wrists.

As he was being led out through the side door toward the holding cell, Adrian turned his head and looked at me one last time from across the courtroom gallery.