The chandeliers were glowing. The champagne was flowing. And beneath the golden lights of the hotel ballroom, everyone believed they were witnessing a perfect evening

While peace reigned at Cliff House, the final hammers of justice fell in the Cook County Criminal Court.

On a rainy Tuesday afternoon, the high-profile joint trial of Victoria Vance, Julian Sterling, and Dr. Robert Vance reached its dramatic conclusion.

The courtroom was packed to the doors with journalists and legal scholars. Victoria sat at the defense table wearing a dark gray prison jumpsuit, her hair unwashed, her former glamour stripped away entirely. Beside her, Julian sat with his shoulders hunched, his arms bound by iron belly-chains.

The state prosecutor stood before the jury, gesturing toward the large projection screen displaying the forensic analysis of the St. Regis CCTV footage, the phone recordings, and the financial paper trail.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," the prosecutor spoke, his voice ringing with absolute authority. "The defendants did not simply commit a crime of passion. They planned a cold, methodical corporate execution. They targeted an innocent pregnant woman because her existence threatened their greed."

The defense attorneys attempted to plead for leniency, claiming mental distress and corporate pressure.

The jury deliberated for a record forty-two minutes.

When the verdict was read, the courtroom was dead silent:

"On count one, attempted murder of an unborn child: GUILTY." "On count two, aggravated battery and extortion: GUILTY." "On count three, conspiracy to commit murder in the death of Arthur Sterling: GUILTY."

Judge William Vance—a highly respected federal judge—struck his heavy oak gavel against the sound block with a loud, final BANG.

"Julian Sterling," Judge Vance declared, looking down with cold disgust, "for the murder of your father and the brutal attempted murder of your sister-in-law, I sentence you to life imprisonment at the Pontiac Maximum Security Facility without the possibility of parole."

"Victoria Vance," the judge continued, "for your calculated role in this monstrous plot, you are sentenced to forty years without parole."

Victoria let out a wild, shrill shriek, collapsing onto the defense table, sobbing hysterically as bailiffs dragged her away in iron chains. Julian didn't even scream; he was led out like a hollow ghost, his life ruined by the very greed that had consumed him.

In Maine, Harrison closed his laptop after reading the live trial feed. He walked over to Serena’s chair, leaning down to kiss her forehead gently.