The sun had just risen over New York City when Uriel Zander stepped out of his car and into the quiet, dilapidated diner where he was set to meet Luis Rivera. It felt like a weight was placed on the day, filled with tension as the trial of *David Morales* was set to begin in less than 24 hours.

Luis Rivera had been an accountant for the Torres Cartel, their only real hope for inside information. If Uriel could get him to testify, they just might have the leverage they needed to dismantle the prosecution's case and show there was a larger organization pulling the strings. But Rivera had been out of the game for years, and getting him to talk—let alone testify—was far from guaranteed.

As he entered the diner, Uriel saw *Jake Oliver* already seated in a back corner booth, eyes locked on the door. Rivera hadn't arrived yet, but Uriel wasn't surprised. Men like Rivera didn't show up on time.

Uriel slid into the booth across from Jake, his face intent. "He still hasn't shown?"

Jake shook his head. "No. But he'll come. He doesn't have a choice if he wants to stay alive."

The air was thick with greasy fumes and the soft clatter of dishes. Uriel's head swam with the facts—if Rivera could confirm the cartel's involvement with the organization, they'd have something concrete to shift the trial's narrative. But convincing him to talk wouldn't go down easy, and neither would the risk to Rivera's life.

They waited another fifteen minutes before the bell over the door jingled. *Luis Rivera* came in, his eyes darting nervously until they settled on Jake and Uriel. Wiry, thin, in his forties, sunken eyes, spastic movements—he was a man who was used to looking over his shoulder.

Rivera worked his way over and slid into the booth, casting wary eyes between Uriel and Jake. "You've got five minutes," he grated in his hoarse voice.

Uriel straightened himself up, his voice low but insistent. "Five minutes isn't long enough. We need to talk."

Rivera's gaze swept the diner. "You don't understand. If they learn I am even talking to you—"

"They're already disappearing," Jake inserted, low but serious. "Their assets are being liquidated; their operations are shutting down. They're trying to cover their tracks before we can expose them."

It was Uriel who spoke next, his voice lower than the others but somehow cutting through the tension: "This is your chance, Luis. Either you help us now, or, when the cartel's done disappearing, they'll make sure you vanish with them."

Rivera set his jaw, his every appearance that of a man about to bolt. But something in Uriel's tone made him stay.

"You don't know what these people are capable of," Rivera said, his voice barely above a quaver. "I worked for them. I know how deep it goes."

Uriel's stare was unflinching as it met his. "We know how deep it goes. That is why we need you. If we can just show their connection with the murders Morales is being charged with, then we can stop them. But you are the key to this, Luis. You have seen the money, the connections—everything."

Rivera's voice caught in his throat. His hand was shaking as he rubbed over his chin. "And if I testify? If I say what I know?"

"We'll protect you," Uriel said. "Witness protection, whatever it takes. But for now, you are a loose thread, and loose threads do not last long. Testifying is your best chance to get out of this alive."

He paused again. Rivera bowed his head to the table, where his decision weighed heavily upon him. Finally, he gave a nod of his head, though his face was distorted with fear.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"Okay," Rivera said in a low tone, "I'll tell you what I know. But when I am done, you make sure they cannot get to me. Understand?"

Uriel nodded firmly. "We’ll make sure."

The next morning, the courthouse erupted with activity as the trial of *David Morales* finally began. Reporters had swarmed onto the steps and into the hallways. This case promised to be one of the most explosive in years to hit New York—Morales, an alleged hitman for the Torres Cartel, faced eleven counts of murder, public sentiment having convicted him a long time ago.

Inside the courtroom, Uriel, Karen, Leo, and Jake got ready for what would be a long day, one that would most definitely equate to some sort of long, dragged-out battle. The prosecution had come prepared, led by *ADA Grace Mitchell*, with a mountain of evidence: phone records, ballistics, eyewitnesses, and a narrative that painted Morales as a cold-blooded killer working for one of the most dangerous gangs in the city.

As Uriel entered court, the burden of the trial finally hit him. This wasn't just about Morales anymore; this was about exposing the cartel—the larger organization—and deep connections buried year after year. If they lost, Morales would take the fall, and the cartel would continue operating in the shadows.

Morales sat pale but composed at the defense table. He knew what was at stake, and while he had worked for the cartel, he had been framed to take the fall for murders he personally had not committed. His life now rested in Uriel's hands.

The opening statements began the trial, and immediately *ADA Mitchell* didn't waste any time laying out the case against Morales.

"David Morales," she began, her voice strong and sure, "has blood on his hands. He worked for the Torres Cartel, a criminal organization responsible for terrorizing the Bronx for years. And Morales, their right-hand hitter, carried out their orders without hesitation. Eleven people are dead because of him—men, women, families torn apart. And we have the evidence to prove it."

Mitchell began to walk the jury through the evidence, drawing a fairly clear picture of Morales as a hired gun who for years had been following the cartel's orders. Phone records tied him to victims, ballistics matched the bullets to his weapons, and several witnesses had put him at the murder scenes.

When she was done, the jury seemed to already have found a conclusion for Morales.

Uriel watched closely, his face calm yet sharpened. He knew exactly what they were up against, but he had seen worse.

When it came time to make the opening statement, Uriel slowly rose, letting silence fill the room until he spoke.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," Uriel said, his voice measured and deliberate, "what you've heard from the prosecution sounds convincing, but there's a bigger story here—one that they haven't told you."

He paused and awaited the weight of his words to sink in.

"The truth is, David Morales is not the man the prosecution's made him out to be. Yes, he worked for the Torres Cartel, but he was not the one who committed these murders. He is being set up—used as a pawn by the very organization that wants to see him silenced. The real killers, the real architects behind these crimes, are still out there, and it is they who should be standing trial today."

Uriel strode over to the jury, his voice steady. "We will prove that Morales did not commit these murders. We will show you the evidence the prosecution has ignored and the links they chose not to pursue. And by the end of this trial, you will see that David Morales is not the man they say he is."

As Uriel returned to his seat, he felt the tension in the room shift ever so slightly. He had planted doubt into their minds—but the hard part was building a defense that could destroy the case the prosecution set up.

It was a brutal first day of testimony as the prosecution called one police officer, one forensic expert, and even an eyewitness who identified Morales near one of the murder scenes, making it compelling evidence. The jury huddled under the stark narrative Mitchell had laid out. But Uriel remained calm, waiting for his moment.

By the end of the day, the prosecution had a strong case, but Uriel knew the fissures were there—small discrepancies that, if he could pull them apart, would start unraveling the truth of the cartel's involvement.

As they left the courtroom that evening, Uriel looked over at his team. Karen, Jake, and Leo looked tired but defiant. They had gotten through the first day, but the real fight was just beginning.

"Tomorrow, we begin to dismantle their case," Uriel said in a hushed tone. "Piece by piece."

Karen nodded, her eyes sharp with focus. "We've got Rivera's testimony ready. It's a risk, but it just might be our only shot."

Uriel nodded in agreement. The following day would be crucial, and they needed every advantage they could get.

As they walked out into the cool evening air, Uriel just couldn't help but feel the weight of what was coming. The trial had only just begun, but the consequences had never been greater.

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