Adrian shifted. “Your Honor—”
“Enough.” He turned to the bailiff. “Approach.”
Then his eyes softened—barely.
“Mrs. Cole,” he said carefully, “are you requesting protection from this court?”
Fear clawed at my chest. Fear of retaliation. Fear of not being believed. Fear of making it worse. Then my baby kicked—sharp and insistent.
“Yes,” I whispered. Then stronger: “Yes, Your Honor. He threatened me. He controls all finances. He said I’d regret fighting him.”
“This is absurd,” Adrian scoffed.
Judge Harper ignored him. “Are you safe in your home?”
“No.” My voice broke. “He changed the locks. Cut off my access to money. I’ve been staying wherever I can.”
Vanessa laughed. “So dramatic.”
“One more interruption,” the judge said calmly, “and you will be held in contempt.”
Adrian’s attorney stood. “Your Honor, this exceeds the scope—”
“It becomes the scope,” Judge Harper cut in, “when a pregnant woman is assaulted in open court.”
He paused, then said the words that drained the color from Adrian’s face.
“Mr. Cole, you will remain seated while I issue immediate orders.”
“You can’t—”
“Watch me.”