The courtroom buzzed with a quiet intensity, a charged energy that prickled at my nerves. Rows of polished wood benches were filled with spectators, journalists, and members of the Blackwood family who had come to witness the drama unfold. This wasn't just a legal battle; it was a public spectacle, a fight for power and legacy that had consumed generations.
I sat beside Damien and our lawyer, Meredith, who radiated calm professionalism. Across the room, Dante lounged confidently at the Blackwood table, his smirk like a taunt. He whispered something to his lawyer, a sharp-looking man with a reputation for shredding his opponents.
The judge entered, and the courtroom rose as one. The gavel struck, and the proceedings began.
The Blackwoods' lawyer stood first, his movements precise and deliberate. He adjusted his tie and turned to address the court, his voice smooth and practiced.
