During the recess in Stephinie's room. The room fell silent as Stephanie spoke, her voice cutting through the low murmurs like a blade.
"We'll call Alexander to the stand," she declared, her tone steady and unyielding.
The reaction was immediate. Confusion spread across the faces of everyone present. Richmond, her uncle, leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, shaking his head. "Seems she's lost it," he muttered, earning a sharp side-eye from Stephanie that silenced him.
Gregory adjusted his glasses, his voice calm but probing. "How would that help us?"
Stephanie's gaze shifted to him, resolute. "Remember what Uncle Godfrey mentioned? Alexander is an exact copy of my dad. And if there's one thing we know about them, it's that they don't play with their pride."
Still, skepticism lingered in the room. Richmond looked unconvinced, while murmurs of uncertainty rippled through the team. But Gregory and Godfrey exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from doubt to dawning realization.
"You want to appeal to the judge's humanity," Godfrey said slowly, leaning forward, "by making it look ethically wrong to give all that wealth to someone like him." He paused. "But that's going to be hard."
Gregory nodded in agreement. "We'd need to get Alexander to say something that appalls the judge. Something that underscores the flaws in his character. How do you propose we do that?"
Stephanie's lips curved into a small, determined smile. "I know just the thing. There's always been one thing Alexander has never tolerated since he was a kid."
Gregory's eyebrows shot up, but before he could ask further, the scene shifted back to the courtroom.
Alexander Blackwell sat in the witness box, his posture impeccable, his expression cold and unreadable. His jet-black eyes held a calculating edge, and his dark hair was combed back with precision. He exuded power, a man utterly confident in his place in the world.
Gregory approached, his movements deliberate, his demeanor intense. "Mr. Blackwell," he began, his voice steady but sharp. "Do you believe in your father's decision to pick you as the sole heir to his shares in Blackwell Investments?"
Alexander's gaze didn't waver. "Yes," he replied, his voice clipped and authoritative. "I am clearly the best fit, as evidenced by my father's will and further supported by my mother's testimony."
Gregory nodded, as though mulling over the answer. "And how do you view your father's business policies?"
Alexander's expression didn't change. "I agree with most of them."
"Most of them?" Gregory's tone shifted, probing. "Would that include his stance on charity?"
Harvey immediately objected. "Relevance, your Honor."
Gregory raised his hands in mock surrender. "I'll rephrase. Mr. Blackwell, are you aware that your father has been quoted publicly as being skeptical of charity, viewing it as an inefficient use of resources?"
Alexander's jaw tightened, but his response was measured. "My father believed in calculated investments, not handouts."
"Calculated investments," Gregory repeated, pacing slightly. "Interesting choice of words. Are you also aware that your father has often been referred to in the media as a 'devil with no morals or heart'?"
Harvey was on his feet. "Objection, your Honor! This line of questioning is inflammatory and irrelevant."
Gregory turned to the judge, his expression earnest. "Your Honor, I'm establishing a pattern of perception surrounding the Blackwell name, which directly relates to the ethical implications of this case."
Judge Patterson sighed, waving for him to proceed carefully. "Overruled. But tread lightly, Mr. Gregory."
Gregory nodded. "Thank you, your Honor." He turned back to Alexander. "Do you believe that perception? Do you believe someone as cold-hearted as you and your father should control this kind of wealth?"
Alexander's eyes narrowed, his composure beginning to crack. Gregory pressed on, his voice growing sharper.
"Let's talk about exhibits from your life," he said, stepping closer. "When your father passed away, just a day after the funeral, you were seen purchasing multiple Bugattis. Hours after burying your father, you were indulging in one of the most extravagant displays of wealth imaginable. Tell me, Mr. Blackwell, does that suggest you truly cared about your father?"
Harvey was back on his feet, his voice raised. "Objection! Badgering the witness and irrelevant to the case."
The courtroom fell silent, all eyes turning to Alexander, who had gone still. Then, his voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the tension.
"Enough."
Gregory paused, watching as Alexander's controlled exterior shattered, revealing something darker, angrier beneath. He remembered Stephanie's words: Alexander doesn't play with the family name. His pride won't allow it.
Alexander's gaze swept across the room, his tone now laced with a dangerous calm. "The world is bitter. I am a powerful man, just as my father was. And with power comes scrutiny. People will always search for flaws, cracks in the armor, to tear you down. My father wasn't a saint, but he was a man of vision and strength, and he built a legacy that will outlast all of us. He built his wealth with his own hands, with a mind that could see opportunities where others saw nothing, with a relentless will to succeed. He owed nobody for what he achieved, and neither do I."
He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a commanding whisper that rang through the courtroom. "My father and I have been targets for years. The world couldn't handle his greatness, so they tried to bring him down time and time again, but he stood tall, unshaken, and they couldn't break him. They couldn't handle how great he was—how powerful he was. And now, they turn on me, expecting me to apologize for that power, for the wealth we've earned, for the legacy we've built. But I will not."
He straightened, his eyes cold and piercing as he scanned the room. "We have the means, we have the ability, and we have the courage to use our power and wealth. Why should I feel sorry for it? Why should I apologize for the success my father and I have worked tirelessly to achieve? The Blackwell name has been forged in strength, and I will not allow anyone to tarnish it with their envy or their judgment."
His voice grew more resolute, every word dripping with authority. "My father chose me because I am the best. I am the strongest. And I will ensure that this family's name and legacy remain untouchable. You can try to vilify me, to paint me as a monster, but the truth is simple. My father made his choice, and he chose wisely."
The courtroom fell into a stunned silence. Even Gregory was momentarily at a loss for words. Alexander's speech had left an indelible mark, his power and pride radiating in every word.
The silence was broken by Judge Patterson's gavel. "Order in the court. We will adjourn for a ten-minute recess."