Chapter 27
After I released the video, the senator was dragged into custody like the criminal he always was–except this time, there were cameras in every direction, and no PR team to clean his mess. Every victim he stepped on was now holding a mic. Every lie he paid for was now screaming back in headlines.
They brought him into court under high security, like some mafia warlord. He still tried to walk like a king, like this was temporary and he’d make bail before sundown. But I could see the twitch in his eye when he looked at me. That twitch gave me life.
Cassian was next to me as we stepped inside. He didn’t say much, just kept his hand close to the small of my back like he was ready to shield me with his whole body if things went south. That’s the thing with Cassian–he never interrupts, but you feel him in every step.
The senator’s eyes locked onto mine as I took the stand. He laughed. Laughed like this was a game.
“This is your justice now, Harmony?” he sneered. “Running your mouth like a soap opera actress? You think these people care about you? You’re just a whore with a new face.” The judge slammed the gavel and warned him, but he leaned closer to the mic and hissed:
“You should’ve died with your parents. I should’ve made sure your brother never made it past infancy. You think you’ve won? I built this country, girl. You’re nothing but ashes pretending to be fire.”
I stared straight at him, and didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink.
“Then I guess it’s poetic that I’m the ashes that will bury you alive,” I said calmly, and the room went dead quiet.
And then, one by one, they stood.
A former intern. A woman no older than twenty–five. Her voice trembled but she kept speaking.
“Senator Lawrence blackmailed my sister with fake charges so I’d spy on his political rivals. When I refused, he sent two men to my apartment. They broke my jaw and killed my parents.”
Another voice: an accountant, maybe early forties, holding a thick folder.
“He funneled over 400 million through the Lawrence Foundation. We raised questions- we were silenced. I lost my job and my house. My daughter missed school for a year and later on killed herself.”
A journalist. One who almost exposed him years ago.
“I had the truth. He had people follow me, threaten my mother. I buried the story. I’m sorry, Celeste. I should’ve helped you then.”
Every voice added more weight. Every truth buried the man deeper than prison ever could.
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When it was my turn to speak again, I stepped forward. The room was already burning with tension, but I wanted them to choke on every word.
“He killed my father,” I said into the mic, voice clear. “Because my father wouldn’t fund the war machines they were selling behind closed doors. Because my father had something these men didn’t–honor. And they buried him for it.”
“Then he used his daughter, Margaret, to destroy me. He gave her power and let her set my mother on fire. He partnered with the Mastersons to silence me. And when I was finally crawling out of that grave, they tried again. But this time, I’m not crawling. I’m rising. And I’m not afraid.”
Cassian stood at the back, fists clenched. He didn’t move, but his eyes never left me. He looked proud. He looked ready to kill if anyone touched me again.
The senator exploded again. His voice cracking, spit flying. “You think I’ll rot in a cell for the rest of my life?! You think they’ll let you walk free after what you’ve stirred? You ruined your own family. You’re a disease in a designer dress.”
Cassian stepped forward now. Calm. Ice–cold.
“No, senator. She’s the cure. And you’ll rot watching her rise.”
The judge finally ordered him silenced. They covered his mic and dragged him out screaming, calling me everything from a traitor to a lying devil in disguise. His power was dead. His empire crumbled.
And I?
I walked out of that courtroom with Aziel’s hand in mine and Cassian’s warmth on my back, while the world began calling me not just Celeste or Harmony Masterson- But
Justice.
And for once, that name felt heavier than any scar they left behind.
HAKEEM’S POV
I was in my penthouse. Lights off, and curtains drawn, just watching her video play again and again. That confession-“My name was Harmony Masterson“-I rewound it until I knew every breath she took, every word she chose, every second her mouth moved. I leaned forward. My hands gripping my knees.
“She said it,” I muttered. “She finally said it. My wife came back.”
The room around me was wrecked. My desk was flipped, glass scattered on the floor, paintings off the walls. I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything except her face on that screen. My hands were still shaking, not from fear–never that–but from something I couldn’t name. Something deep that’s been clawing at me since the moment she disappeared.
Marlo stood by the door like he didn’t know whether to speak or disappear. When he finally
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said, “Boss, we need to think,” I snapped. I grabbed him by the collar, slammed him back against the wall, and stared him down.
“I built this empire,” I said through my teeth. “I bled for this name. And she was mine. You understand? Mine. Now the world sees me like I’m just another bastard with money and power. They think I lost her. But I didn’t. She’s still here.”
Marlo nodded, silent, breathing fast.
I let him go and turned back to the screen. Reporters were shouting. Headlines were flashing. They were tearing me apart in real–time.
“Hakeem Masterson under investigation.”
“Harmony Masterson survived. Reborn as Celeste.”
“Warrant issued. Global hunt begins.”
I didn’t flinch. I didn’t even blink. I grabbed a bottle of bourbon from the cabinet, drank straight from it, and threw the glass into the wall when it burned too slow. Lawyers were calling, but I let it ring. Investors were backing out, but they could choke on their money. Properties got seized, accounts frozen–I didn’t give a damn. I didn’t even give a damn that Margaret died carrying my child.
I stared at her face on the screen.
“She’s different now,” I said quietly. “New name. New voice. But it’s her. I know how she breathes when she lies. And she’s not lying now.”
One of the lawyers stepped in and asked if I wanted to issue a statement. I looked at him and didn’t say anything for a few seconds.
Then I answered, calm and cold.
“I want her back.”
The room went still.
