Chapter 170
Dorian
How dare I be treated like this.
In chains.
I'm Dorian Black — heir to greatness, architect of my own empire, the name people used to whisper with respect or fear. And now here I am, shackled like a beast in front of journalists, activists, and gawking strangers.
This is a joke.
Somewhere, something went wrong in my life, and that something was that stupid model.
If I had known how much chaos he'd bring, I would have killed him when I had the chance.
My lawyers whisper strategies, but all I can think about is how the courtroom smells like paper, sweat, and judgment. The cameras flash. Every eye burns through me.
***
Ivan
As I walk to the stand, flashes go off again. I can almost hear the headlines writing themselves — "Omega Survivor Faces His Abuser".
Good. Let them.
Honestly, there were other ways I could've gotten revenge on Dorian. Quieter ways. Meaner ways. But this one — this one's for the original Ivan.The one whose name I borrowed, whose heart shattered before mine ever got the chance.
He deserves justice.
So I put on the performance of a lifetime. Tears at the edges, voice trembling, hands clasped too tight. A perfect picture of a victim reclaiming power.
I glance toward Dorian through my lashes. His jaw ticks, nostrils flaring. The best part? I'm not even lying.
Multiple times, the original Ivan said no, and Dorian — that piece of shit — just didn't care. He coerced him, manipulated him, cornered him with money and guilt. Financial abuse, emotional control , it's all true.
And the attempted kidnapping? That was when I'd just arrived in this world. Defamation? That was when he and the Vale media team were dragging my name through dirt , I don't forget grievances since the Vales have been delt with my by husband Dorian is mine.
Every word I say is a blade, every tear a polished weapon.
A few sympathetic looks from the jury.
Success.
***
Zander
Hearing what he went through, really hearing it this time, something cracks under my ribs.
I knew that bastard hurt him, but I didn't understand the depth of it until Ivan took the stand.
Every detail that leaves his mouth is a nail in Dorian's coffin and a knife in my gut. I'm barely holding myself back from crossing the courtroom and ending it right there.
***
Ivan
Zander's doing brilliantly — the evidence is amazing. He outdid himself. Digital records, financial trails, old messages recovered from encrypted clouds.
And then — the unexpected twist — on the attempted kidnapping count, there's another witness.
They call him forward.
I blink.
Zander?
He saw me that night?
So we didn't actually meet for the first time at the restaurant like I thought. He'd seen me before, and he's never told me I'll deal with him later.
***
Dorian
I've hired three more lawyers. None of them are worth the money I'm paying. They look nervous. Avoid my eyes.
Even I know it's futile.
***
Ivan
I didn't expect Harry to actually show up as a witness. I told him not to — his career's taking off, he doesn't need this kind of media circus. But that curly-haired fool never listens.
When he takes the stand, my chest tightens. His voice shakes but doesn't break.
He talks about the manipulation, the grooming, the subtle control. The patterns repeat like a curse — the same script Dorian used on the original Ivan.
As he finishes, I feel this strange mix of grief and gratitude.
I'm glad I interfered when I did. Because Harry was headed for the same ending.
***
Harry
I hated it.
Every word. Every memory dragged out under a thousand eyes.
But Dorian Black deserves this. Every single second.
***
Ivan
Court erupts into chaos before the next recess.
Mason the fuming alpha, suddenly stands up, growling, and lunges at Dorian. He actually lands the punch square across Dorian's face before security swarms him.
It takes three guards to pull the furious alpha off.
Court adjourned.
I have to cover my mouth to keep from laughing.
***
Day Three
Ivan
Now, this is my favorite part.
Dorian's already cracked from two days of exposure. The cameras love him — every sneer, every arrogant look, every smirk that reads as guilt.
I want him to feel helpless. Powerless.
That's where my sweet boys from Operation Cock Block Dorian come in.
A few familiar faces take the stand —
They talk about bruises, control, violence. Forged evidence, doctored messages — all too detailed to question in a short hearing.
I sit there, head bowed like a grieving saint, while inside, I'm grinning.
They play their parts so beautifully.
***
Dorian
They're lying.
Every single one of them.
"Don't lie, you fucking bastard!" I snarl when one of the omegas claims I hit him. I don't fucking hit omegas and women.
"I barely lasted a week with you, and you were poached by Ivan!"
"Mr. Black, order in court!" the judge snaps.
They're presenting false evidence — doctored screenshots, edited footage. These assholes. These liars.
One after another, they tell their little stories. One says I hit them. Another claims I forced them to drink my pee absolutely fucking ridiculous. I hear a snort, a muffled laugh turned cough.
I turn, furious, searching for the source.
And there , in the front row — amused green eyes watching me.
That bitch.
"You bitch!!!" I scream, voice raw.
"You did this! You know it's all false!"
The guards rush me, pinning me down as I thrash. My vision shakes.
***
Zander
My husband hides his face in my shoulder as Dorian's dragged away, chains clanging, curses echoing through the chamber.
To everyone else, it looks like fear. Like trauma resurfacing.
But I can feel the quiet tremors — not from pain, but from restrained laughter.
I hold his shoulders as if to comfort him, rubbing slow circles down his back while Dorian's voice fades.
"Helpless enough for you?" I whisper softly against Ivan's hair.
He hums, smiling just barely. "Almost."
Sometimes, he scares me.
***
Day Five
Court Clerk
"Defendant, Dorian Black, please rise."
---
Dorian
I stand. Shackled wrists. Hollow eyes. I can't even feel my legs anymore.
The judge reads the verdict slowly, like twisting a knife.
"Guilty on all counts."
The words echo like thunder.
"Sentenced to fifty years imprisonment, with an additional three years for disruptive behavior and contempt of court. Ordered to pay financial compensation totaling twenty-three million to victims."
Fifty-three years.
My mouth goes dry.
The world tilts.
I look for one friendly face — there's none. Not a single person left who believes me.
***
Ivan
He looks small now. Smaller than I ever imagined he could.
The monster who once thought himself a god, reduced to a man in cuffs.
When they drag him past me, he still tries to hold my gaze — the last spark of defiance, that signature Dorian glare.
"Justice," I whisper.
For the original Ivan. For Harry. For everyone who didn't get to fight back.