LUCY
I had been preparing for this day since the moment I walked out of that lounge. Every word I would say, every possible angle the other lawyer might take, I ran it all through my head over and over like a movie I couldn't stop watching.
And now, here I was, in the courtroom, dressed in one of my best black suits, hair packed neatly, my files arranged in perfect order on the desk before me.
I didn't come here to lose.
But as I glanced to my left at the man I was defending, I wondered if I should have just stayed home.
Lorenzo sat next to me, perfectly still, like he didn't even have a case hanging over his head. He didn't even look nervous, nor tense. His posture was too relaxed, too confident for someone facing serious charges. His fingers were lightly crossed, his leg slightly bent over the other like he was just here to pass time.
On the other side of the room, Damien Crawford, the opposing lawyer, was whispering to his own client. Damien was one of those people you wish didn't have a law degree. He was loud, arrogant, always thinking the courtroom belonged to him. And somehow, by some stupid miracle, he kept winning cases.
Except when it was against me.
It was like fate loved seeing me wipe that annoying smirk off his face every single time.
Could it be luck? Maybe. Or maybe I was just better.
The courtroom was too quiet, everyone was waiting for the judge. Even the fans on the ceiling moved like they were scared of making noise.
I sat straight, pretending I was just as calm as Lorenzo, but the way my stomach kept twisting said otherwise.
Still… the silence between us was heavier than I liked.
I expected him to say something. Anything. Maybe ask me if I was sure about my argument. Maybe offer one of those annoying rich-man comments about winning. Nothing.
It was like he wasn't even present in his own case.
Finally, I gave up waiting.
I leaned closer and spoke quietly. "Why do you look so calm? Don't you realize what's on the line here? Or is it because you already know you have the money and connections to get yourself out of anything?"
It came out harsher than I meant it, but I didn't care. If I was going to defend him, I at least deserved a reaction.
He slowly turned his head to me, those dark cold eyes meeting mine. The way he stared at me made me regret even opening my mouth. His gaze felt almost like a warning – but not loud, not angry. Just… cold.
For a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer. But then his lips parted.
"I don't fear any man," he said simply, "And besides," his eyes didn't leave mine, "I have a lawyer who knows her job."
I blinked. Of all the things I thought he would say, that wasn't one of them.
For a second, just a second, I felt a stupid smile trying to climb onto my face. I quickly pressed my lips together, forcing it back down.
Instead, I nodded slightly. "Good. Then do yourself a favor, stay away from trouble. I won't be here to help you next time."
He didn't say anything. Just kept looking at me like he was trying to see deeper than just my words.
Then… he smiled.
But not the kind of smile you give someone when they say something funny or sweet. No, this was different.
It was the rarest, strangest smile I had ever seen, and it made me uncomfortable. Like he knew something I didn't. Like the whole case was just a joke to him, and I was the one dancing to the music he was playing.
I glanced at Mr. Stark, the opponent. For someone who brought a whole case to court, he looked… nervous. His eyes kept shifting, his legs tapping slightly under the table. He tried to hide it, but I saw it.
But what bothered me more was Mr. Carcaterra.
He sat like a king on a throne. Too calm to be true. Like he already knew how this whole thing would end. Like we were all wasting his time. And honestly? The way this whole scene was playing out, something didn't feel right. The maths wasn't matching anymore.
If anyone had walked into this courtroom without knowing the case, they would've thought Mr. Stark was the good guy, and Mr. Carcaterra the guilty one.
I hated that feeling. I hated when things didn't make sense. Before I could think more about it, the judge walked in.
We all rose, bowed our heads, and waited for him to sit before sitting down again. His eyes scanned the room briefly, and then the trial began.
"Court in session," the bailiff announced.
Mr. Stark's lawyer, Crawford, stood up first, like I knew he would. His tone was mean, trying too hard to sound sure of himself.
"My Lord," he began, "we are gathered here today because the accused, Mr. Lorenzo Carcaterra, is guilty of destroying government property, causing damages running into millions."
He threw a glance at me. I ignored him.
"My client has no personal issues with Mr. Carcaterra, but as a law-abiding citizen, he cannot sit back and watch someone walk free after such destruction."
I waited. He wasn't done yet.
"At the time of the incident," Crawford continued, "my client was at home with his family, nowhere near the location of the damage. But Mr. Carcaterra–"
I stood up slowly, cutting in. "If I may, my Lord?"
The judge nodded, giving me the floor.
I faced Crawford. "Where exactly was your client when this incident happened?"
Crawford gave that annoying smirk I hated. "As I already said, in his home."
"Right. So, at home." I nodded, then turned to the judge. "My Lord, while Mr. Stark's client was comfortably at home, my client, Mr. Carcaterra, was in an official meeting. And we have witnesses to confirm this. It's unfair, highly unfair, to drag a businessman into such an accusation when he was nowhere near the scene."
I stepped closer, locking eyes with Crawford now. "But before we assume too quickly that someone can be in a meeting and still cause destruction elsewhere, I have a simple question."
The judge nodded for me to continue.
"If Mr. Carcaterra was truly responsible for this crime… why didn't he do it earlier? Why on that exact day… the same day hi
s opponent had a personal issue with him? Why is it suddenly that day that everything went wrong?"