A girl from Blind Street arrives in court and comes to the defense of a billionaire accused of taking his wife’s life, shocking the judge. I’m going to defend him. I’m going to prove to you, Your Honor, that this man is innocent. What he did next shocked everyone in the trial. That man is a monster, a murderer.

He took my princess’s life. My daughter, my beloved daughter. I want him to rot in prison, Vilma screamed, her voice piercing the silence of the courtroom like a knife. Her hands shook uncontrollably, her eyes filled with tears, which streamed down her pain-scarred face.

Sitting in the witness box, she pointed with a trembling finger in the direction of the accused, Raúl Montes, a man of imposing appearance, wearing an expensive suit, and with a dejected posture, the multimillionaire who was being tried for a crime that had shocked everyone: the murder of his own wife, Carolina, Vilma’s daughter. The prosecution lawyer, wearing a well-tailored dark suit, stood up firmly.

He walked a few steps forward and, looking Vilma in the eye, asked seriously, “Could you tell me what the defendant’s relationship with your daughter was like? There were many arguments. He was aggressive.” Vilma, her eyes reddened from crying, let out a painful sigh. What was in her gaze wasn’t just pain, but something deeper, something like deep-rooted hatred.

At first, at first, he was a sweetheart to my Carolina, she said in a broken lament. But over time, the relationship turned into a nightmare. He became obsessive, aggressive. I heard him yell at my daughter. I saw with my own eyes the purple marks on her body. He begged her, “Carolina, end this marriage, daughter. End it before the worst happens.”

But she, she said everything would be okay. She said she loved this monster. She gave herself to him body and soul. And what did he do? He took her life. That man, that man is a murderer. Raúl, until then motionless and head bowed in the dock, jumped up suddenly, his eyes wide open and his voice breaking. “No, that’s not true,” he cried out in despair.

“Vilma, please don’t do this. You know how much I loved your daughter. I would never do something like this. I never attacked her. I never hurt Carolina. Please, please tell the truth.” But the woman didn’t back down. With even more strength and fury, she retorted, “Liar. You ended my daughter’s life.”

You used her like a doll and then threw her away like trash. You destroyed her inside and out. You manipulated her. You killed her. My princess. My girl. You are a monster. Raúl. A monster, and I won’t have peace until I see you behind bars suffering for what you did. That’s a lie! She yelled at the billionaire. Attention rose like an uncontrollable flame.

Judge Ramiro, a serious, middle-aged man with gray hair and steady eyes, raised his gavel and banged it hard against the wood in front of him. “Order in the courtroom.” “Order,” he ordered in a gruff voice. “Now is the time for the witness to speak. And you, please remain silent.”

His situation is no longer favorable, and if it continues like this, it will only get worse. Sitting just behind the accused, in the front row, was Doña Clara, Raúl’s mother, the only one standing firmly by his side. The woman, with a noble appearance and anguished look, gently placed her hand on her son’s shoulder. “Calm down, son. You have to stay calm,” she whispered.

Raúl turned his face slightly and responded through gritted teeth, his voice muffled with desperation. “How am I going to stay calm, Mother? I’m being accused of a crime I didn’t commit, and I don’t even have a lawyer to defend myself now.” Raúl’s situation really seemed to be crumbling like a house of cards. Accused of killing his own wife, he was vehemently claiming his innocence.

But the evidence seemed to speak otherwise. And as if all that weren’t enough, the renowned lawyer he had hired disappeared without a trace, right at the most important hearing: the final one. With no other option, the billionaire decided to continue the session even without a formal defense, but every minute there made him realize how risky and misguided that decision had been.

Meanwhile, Vilma, still emotional and visibly shaken, continued her statement, steadfast in her accusation. “He was always aggressive, possessive. My daughter was afraid of him. I know it, and I have proof,” she declared, looking firmly at the judge. “I ask that the prosecuting attorney now show me the video my daughter sent me. Days before she died, she secretly recorded it.”

He sent it to me because he knew something bad could happen. The prosecuting attorney nodded and handed the flash drive to the technical team. The lights in the courtroom dimmed, and the video appeared on the courtroom screen. The image was slightly shaky, but the scene was clear. Carolina and Raúl in a heated argument.

The woman’s voice was strained, and Raúl was gesticulating intensely, visibly irritated. “Look, Your Honor, what I’m saying is the absolute truth,” Vilma said, raising her head. “My daughter recorded this video to show what was happening inside that house. This man was a bomb waiting to explode, and she knew it.”

Judge Ramiro watched the footage with a stern expression, his eyes narrowed, and his chin tense. As soon as the video ended, Raúl tried once more to justify himself. That day, that day was different. Carolina came home screaming, “I swear, I don’t know what happened, but it wasn’t ordinary. We always got along, Your Honor. I loved my wife, but the judge didn’t seem willing to budge.”

In a slow, heavy voice, he looked at Raúl and said, “Mr. Raúl, your wife was poisoned. Potassium cyanide was found on her body; a vial of the powder, with only your fingerprints on it, was in your office. And according to the records, you were the last one to offer her a drink that night. There’s also evidence that Carolina wanted to leave. All of this points to a crime of passion.”

He paused, then declared firmly, “If you killed your wife, I advise you to confess. A confession might perhaps reduce your sentence, but know that my decision has already been made.” Raúl put his hands to his head and let out a painful sigh, as if his world had completely collapsed. Despair erupted in his trembling, choked voice.

“No! I didn’t kill Carolina. I would never do that. There has to be another explanation. I don’t know what that substance was doing in my office. I want a lawyer. I need a lawyer.” He looked like he’d been overcome by an avalanche. His eyes were full of tears, his breathing was labored, and his wrinkled suit betrayed how much he’d lost control.

But Judge Ramiro didn’t seem inclined to back down. He shook his head slowly, without compassion, and declared, “I’m very sorry, Mr. Raúl, but you yourself waived your attorney. You decided to continue the hearing on your own, and now there are no more witnesses or new evidence, and no time to find a new attorney.”

“What remains for me is to issue my decision and the sentence.” Vilma stood up abruptly, her face bathed in tears and her voice thick with indignation. “The sentence is life imprisonment for this murderer. He took my daughter’s life. This monster deserves life imprisonment.” The scream echoed like thunder, and soon other voices rose in chorus. A murmur filled the courtroom.

Some people murmured, others shouted, pointing at Raúl. “Murderer,” they said. “Monster,” they whispered angrily. Raúl, paralyzed, slumped hard into the defendants’ chair. The expression on his face was that of someone who saw no way out. The once-imposing billionaire now looked like a defeated man, crushed by circumstances.

Right behind him, Doña Clara pressed a handkerchief to her face, weeping silently. Deep down in her heart, the mother knew her son wasn’t capable of such cruelty. He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t do it even to an insect. She whispered to herself as she did so. The judge banged his gavel on the wooden table. Order in the courtroom, she firmly demanded.

The voices faded one by one until silence reigned again. Everyone knew what would come next. The judge settled into his chair, picked up the documents in front of him, and took a deep breath. He was about to pronounce Raúl’s sentence, but then, suddenly, an unexpected voice cut through the air. Wait, stop this trial now. Stop it immediately.