Page 20 of Craving Venom

“You’re going to have fun. Even if it fucking kills you.”

She hangs up before I can change my mind. I stare at my phone for a moment, then toss it onto the desk with a groan. A day off, and now I’m spending it with my best friend and her newboyfriend. Great.

I shake my head and turn back to my laptop. The screen lights up, and before I can talk myself out of it, I type Zane’s name into the search bar. The video of his trial pops up immediately. My stomach flips as I click on it.

The courtroom feed fills my screen, and the first thing I notice isn’t the judge or the lawyers. It’s the crowd. Rows of people—mostly girls, beautiful girls—dressed to the nines, like this is some red-carpet premiere and not a fucking murder trial. Some of them are holding little signs with Zane’s name on them, like this is some twisted fan club meeting.

It’s sick. They’re cheering for a guy accused of slaughtering his own mother and brother. My stomach churns as I watch one girl blow a kiss toward where Zane is seated, like he’s a rockstar instead of an alleged killer.

And, of course, Zane laps it up. He leans back in his chair with that ever-present smirk plastered on his face as he scans the room. He looks like he’s about to wink at one of them, and I swear my eye twitches.

“Fucking psycho,” I mutter under my breath.

The sound of a gavel slamming snaps my attention back to the trial. The judge, an older man with a perpetually grim expression, clears his throat.

“Before we begin, I’ve been informed that Mr. Christopher Valehart, the defendant’s lead attorney, will not be available for the duration of this trial,” he announces. “Miss Kessler, can you confirm this?”

The camera cuts to Yvette Kessler, Zane’s attorney. She stands with icy professionalism. “That is correct, Your Honor. Mr. Valehart’s team and I will be handling the defense in his absence.”

The judge nods, unimpressed. “Very well. Let’s proceed.”

Carrie Loeser, the prosecutor, rises and steps to the middle of the courtroom, addressing the jury.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, today you will hear about greed. About betrayal. About a man who, for all his charm and charisma, cared for no one but himself. Zane Valehart didn’t just murder his family. He executed them, all for a five-hundred-billion-dollar inheritance.”

She lets that sink in for a moment, her gaze sweeping over the jury.

“This isn’t a case about doubt. It’s about justice. Justice for Isabella Valehart, people’s princess, and Alex Valehart, aninnocent child. I intend to prove, beyond any doubt, that Zane’s actions were calculated, cold, and utterly devoid of remorse.”

There’s a ripple of tension in the room. Even through the screen, I can feel it.

Then Yvette steps up and smooths down her blazer.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” she begins, her voice measured and confident. “The prosecution will try to paint Zane Valehart as a monster. A greedy, remorseless killer who murdered his family for a five-hundred-billion-dollar inheritance. But that story? It’s absurd.”

She lets the word hang in the air for a moment, glancing at each juror, daring them to disagree.

“Zane Valehart didn’t need to kill anyone for that inheritance. He was already set to acquire it. In fact, as of today—his seventeenth birthday—he has acquired it. There was no motive, no reason for him to commit these heinous acts. The prosecution’s narrative is built on speculation and emotional manipulation, not evidence.”

I scoff under my breath. Yeah, right.

The prosecution wastes no time calling their first witness. Detective Ray Jordan. He’s in his mid-forties, with a stocky build and a face that looks like it’s seen way too much. He’s sworn in, and Carrie starts her questioning.

“Detective Jordan, please state your name and title for the court.”

“Raymond Jordan, lead detective on this case.”

“And were you the first officer on the scene?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Carrie takes a few steps closer, her heels clicking against the courtroom floor. “Can you describe what you found upon arriving?”

Jordan exhales, his hands gripping the edges of the witness stand. “I found Zane Valehart and his two friends, Gabriella andLuke, standing outside the VonKrauss estate. They had called 911 to report that Zane’s mother, Isabella, and his younger brother, Alex, had been shot and killed.”

He glances toward Zane. “What stood out to me immediately was Zane’s demeanor. He was calm. Too calm. He didn’t shed a single tear.”

Carrie tilts her head. “Did that strike you as unusual?”

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