They Accused the Wrong "Monster"

They Accused the Wrong "Monster"

Agatha Christie · Ongoing · 6.8k Words

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Introduction

"Pay us five million dollars, or I'll tell the world your son is a rapist."

That was the blackmail demand my new neighbor threw in my face. When I refused to pay, she took me to court.

Now, we are in a packed, live-streamed courtroom. Her daughter is crying on the witness stand in a neck brace, swearing my "heavily-muscled" son brutally attacked her in the backyard. Her sleazy lawyer is waving a fake DNA match at the jury. Protesters are screaming my name. My company’s stock is tanking.

They think they’ve backed a wealthy CEO into a corner.

But they were too stupid to check who actually lives in my house.

They want to meet the monster they accused? Fine. Let's see their faces when he walks through those doors.

Chapter 1

"Pay us five million dollars, or I'll tell the world your son is a rapist."

That was the blackmail demand my new neighbor threw in my face. When I refused to pay, she took me to court.

Now, we are in a packed, live-streamed courtroom. Her daughter is crying on the witness stand in a neck brace, swearing my "heavily-muscled" son brutally attacked her in the backyard. Her sleazy lawyer is waving a fake DNA match at the jury. Protesters are screaming my name. My company’s stock is tanking.

They think they’ve backed a wealthy CEO into a corner.

But they were too stupid to check who actually lives in my house.

They want to meet the monster they accused? Fine. Let's see their faces when he walks through those doors.


Maren

My new neighbor sued me for money. In court, she cried as she accused my son of raping her daughter.

"Your son is a monster!" Valerie Sutton shouted. "You'd barely moved in before he attacked my Paige. He beat her. He raped her!"

Paige's lawyer, Nolan Price, waited for the gallery's gasps to settle before turning to me.

"Ms. Whitlock," he began, his tone sharp. "On the night of July fifteenth, did your son assault my client?"

I sat at the defense table, letting the silence stretch. Beyond the windows, protesters chanted, "Justice for Paige," their muffled voices bleeding through the glass along with the flash of news cameras. Inside, people leaned forward, hanging on my next word.

"No, he did not," I answered, keeping my face entirely blank.

Nolan turned toward the jury. "Ladies and gentlemen, you hear that? The defense won't even acknowledge what her son has done."

In the gallery, Mrs. Caldwell shook her head. The Bennetts looked away when I caught their eyes.

At last week's neighborhood barbecue, those same people had crowded around me. A tech mogul on their block—how exciting. When they heard I had a son, a bodybuilding champion, they had been even more enthusiastic.

"He must be such a fine young man!"

"You're so lucky, Maren."

Last week, they could hardly wait to meet my son. Now Mrs. Caldwell watched Paige dab at her eyes and shook her head again.

I remembered Valerie on my front porch a week ago, calling my name loudly enough for the neighbors to hear.

"Maren! Get out here and deal with this!"

I had just closed a major deal and wanted a quiet afternoon. Instead, I opened the door to find her supporting Paige, who was bruised and leaning against her mother as though she could barely stand.

"Your freak of a bodybuilder son did this," Valerie hissed, pointing at the purple marks on her daughter's face.

"My son never left the house," I replied calmly.

Paige lifted her head. "Don't play dumb. Last night, in the backyard… Jasper was…" She stopped, gasping for air like she was having a panic attack. "He was terrifying."

"What exactly happened?" I pressed.

"He threw me down. He tore at my clothes and tried to pull my pants down. I fought back, so he started hitting me. My face, my arms…"

Before I could ask another question, Valerie interrupted.

"Five million. Settle this privately. Otherwise, we go to court, and the whole world finds out what kind of monster you raised."

She hadn't asked to see my son. She just asked for five million.

"I refuse," I told her.

Valerie stared at me in disbelief. "What?"

"If you want money, I'll see you in court."

I shut the door right in her face. I hadn't regretted it then, and I didn't regret it now.

Back in the present, Nolan opened a manila folder. "Your Honor, I'd like to show the court photographs of Ms. Sutton's injuries."

Paige's battered face filled the courtroom screen. A neck brace. Her right arm in a cast. Ugly scrapes across her face.

Someone in the jury box drew a sharp breath.

"Look at the force required to inflict this kind of damage," Nolan said, his voice thick with sympathy. "Look at what my client suffered."

He brought up another image—a blurry cell phone photo taken in the dark. A broad-shouldered man's back faced the camera. In front of him, a woman lay sprawled on the ground.

"A neighbor heard screaming and snapped this picture. Even through the grain, you can see an assault in progress."

You couldn't make out the man's face. That didn't stop the venomous whispers behind me.

"Those rich kids think they can get away with anything."

"What kind of mother lets this happen?"

My phone buzzed against the table. A stock alert: my company was down another three percent.

I glanced at the screen and turned the phone facedown.

"Look at her," a man in the gallery muttered loud enough for all to hear. "That poor girl's half-dead, and she's checking her stocks."

Nolan noticed. Of course he did.

"This is what we're dealing with, ladies and gentlemen," he told the jury, gesturing toward my table. "She thinks her wealth can make the consequences simply disappear."

The judge struck his gavel. "Order in my courtroom!"

The room quieted, but the digital vitriol on my phone kept coming. Someone was live-streaming from inside the courtroom, and the short clip of me checking my notifications was already circulating.

"She's totally cold-blooded."

"Jasper. Remember his name."

"Maren Whitlock, get out of our town."

The hashtag #JusticeForPaige had already hit fifty thousand retweets in three hours. Valerie had threatened to ruin us, and a roomful of strangers was eagerly helping her do it.

I set the phone down again, my expression still completely unreadable.

Nolan called Paige to the witness stand. She rose slowly, holding her injured arm close to her body. Halfway there, she paused as though she needed a moment to recover. Faces softened all around her.

"Take your time, Paige," Nolan said gently. "Just tell us what you remember."

Paige sat down and tremblingly pressed a tissue beneath one eye.

"His eyes," she said, her voice breaking. "I'll never forget them. Jasper looked at me like…"

She searched the room, letting out a shaky breath before finishing.

"Like an animal staring at its prey."

A middle-aged man suddenly shot up in the gallery and pointed a trembling finger at me.

"Scum like him belong in a cage!"

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