Chapter 5 - The Bail Hearing-5
At two o'clock that afternoon, the heavy wooden doors of Courtroom 4B inside the Lindsey-Flanigan Courthouse swung open.
The courtroom was packed with local journalists, court observers, and high-profile legal teams. News of the stop-work order at Apex Tower had already swept through Denver’s financial district, sending shockwaves through the local real estate market.
I sat in the front row of the prosecution's gallery, flanked by Arthur Pendelton and Natalie.
Across the aisle sat the defense table.
Diego stood beside his high-priced criminal defense attorney, wearing an orange county jail jumpsuit over his wrinkled dress shirt. His hair was messy, his eyes were bloodshot, and he looked thoroughly shaken after spending eighteen hours in a cold holding cell alongside common offenders.
Behind him sat his mother, Victoria, wearing a dark Chanel suit, her hands clutching her designer handbag so tightly her knuckles were stark white. Beside her was Arthur Sterling, looking ten years older, frantically replying to text messages on his glowing phone screen as his investors pulled out of his firm one by one.
The Honorable Judge Susan Montgomery stepped up to the bench, slamming her wooden gavel down hard to restore absolute order to the room.
“Case number 24-CR-4419,” the clerk announced. “The People of the State of Colorado versus Diego Arthur Sterling. Charges: Second-Degree Assault with a Deadly Weapon, Domestic Violence, and Criminal Mischief.”
The Assistant District Attorney, a sharp woman named Karen Reyes, stood up immediately. “Your Honor, the State requests that bail be set at $250,000 cash or surety, along with a mandatory Level-4 Protection Order, alcohol monitoring, and the immediate surrender of the defendant’s passport.”
Diego’s attorney stood up quickly, offering a smooth, practiced smile. “Your Honor, my client is a lifelong resident of Denver, a respected corporate consultant, and a member of a prominent local family. This incident was nothing more than an unfortunate domestic argument over family finances that escalated emotionally. The victim sustained a minor laceration. A signature bond of $10,000 is more than sufficient.”
“Minor laceration?” Prosecutor Reyes countered sharply, stepping forward and placing a stack of high-resolution medical photographs directly onto the judge’s bench. “Your Honor, the victim required twelve stitches to her scalp. The defendant hurled a heavy ceramic object directly at her face from point-blank range inside a room full of witnesses. Furthermore, we have sworn statements indicating the defendant threatened the victim prior to the physical attack.”
Judge Montgomery reviewed the medical photographs, her brow furrowing deeper with every second. She then turned her gaze toward the defense table, her sharp eyes locking onto Diego.
“Mr. Sterling,” Judge Montgomery said, her voice dripping with cold disdain. “I have reviewed the police report and the emergency room medical records. Throwing a heavy object at your spouse's head is not an ‘emotional escalation’—it is a violent, cowardly felony.”
Victoria gasped loudly from the gallery, reaching out to grab her husband’s arm.
“Your Honor, if I may,” Diego’s attorney interjected frantically. “Mr. Sterling’s family is prepared to offer his personal residence as collateral for a lower bond—”
“Which residence?” Prosecutor Reyes interrupted smoothly, pulling a real estate deed from her file. “Because the Capitol Hill property where the defendant resides is owned entirely, 100%, by the victim, Ms. Valerie Vance, under a pre-marital sole-property trust. Mr. Sterling has zero legal ownership of that asset.”
Diego’s head whipped around toward his lawyer, his eyes wide with shock. “What? That’s my apartment! We live there together!”
“Correction, Mr. Sterling,” Judge Montgomery interjected dryly. “You lived there at the discretion of your wife. And as of 9:00 AM today, this court issued an emergency protection order excluding you from that property entirely.”
Judge Montgomery slammed her gavel down with a sharp, decisive bang.
“Bail is set at $150,000 cash only,” the judge ruled. “The defendant will surrender his passport within two hours of release, submit to continuous GPS location tracking, and maintain a minimum distance of 500 feet from Ms. Valerie Vance, her residence, and her place of business. If he makes so much as a single phone call to her, his bond will be revoked instantly.”
As two sheriff's deputies grabbed Diego’s arms to lead him back toward the holding cells, Diego looked past his attorney, his eyes finding mine in the front row of the gallery.
“Valerie!” he yelled, his voice cracking with pathetic, desperate panic as he struggled against the deputies' grip. “Valerie, please! Talk to my mom! Tell them to lower the bond! I can't stay in here another night! Valerie!”
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I didn't answer him. I didn't flinch.
I simply sat there in my tailored blazer, watching calmly as the man who had tried to intimidate me, strike me, and steal my home was led away in steel chains.
