Monica's office was both impressive and suffocating. The massive mahogany desk dominated the space, its surface gleaming under the soft light from the floor-to-ceiling windows. The faint scent of lemon cleaner mixed with Monica's sharp vanilla perfume, creating an air that was as polished as it was oppressive.
Walls lined with framed accolades and photos of Monica with political elites served as constant reminders of her power. The tension in the room was palpable, as though the very air bristled with unspoken truths. Behind the desk, Monica sat in her black leather chair, radiating control, her eyes sharp enough to pierce through any façade.
"I don't understand. If he's guilty and there's evidence to back the claim, why do you want me to lose on purpose?" Judy asked, her sharp gaze fixed on Monica. The weight of the request was unnerving, as was the presence of Jordan Miller, CEO of their rival firm. She couldn't grasp how one man, a mere staffer, could spark this level of collaboration between two legal giants.
"Why is a powerful organization like TIC so threatened by an employee?"
Monica opened her mouth, but Jordan cut her off.
"We can't take any chances, Judith. He loses this case, or you can kiss your career goodbye." With that, he left the room, leaving Judy reeling.
"I'm sorry to put you in this position," Monica said, placing a reassuring hand on Judy's shoulder.
"But we can't turn this down, even if we wanted to. It's an easy case, though. The evidence is damning, so losing won't be too difficult. Just don't take it too seriously."
"The trial is in a week," Monica added, walking back to her desk and sitting down. "TIC wants this done quickly and quietly to avoid disrupting their campaign."
"A week?" Judy blurted. "That's way too short to prepare for a trial!"
"Good. Don't prepare," Monica replied, her tone firm. "I know this is confusing, but the less you know, the better. For the sake of all our necks, just do as you're told. This isn't like the other cases, you do not want to get on their bad side."
Judy stood frozen in place, trying to process what she had just heard.
"And by the way," Monica added, her tone softening slightly, "happy 29th birthday to our star lawyer. After this is over, you and Ellie...that's her name, right?"
"Yes... Ellie Harper," Judy stammered.
"Right. You two can take a trip to Hawaii or Miami, on the house."
Forcing a smile, Judy mumbled her thanks and left the office.
What the hell just happened? Does that count as a bribe?
Judy left the office feeling hollow, her heels echoing in the silence of her thoughts. By the time she reached her car, her chest was tight, and her grip on the steering wheel felt like her only anchor.
The drive home was a blur of streetlights and muffled city noise, her mind spinning with questions. They want me to lose on purpose.
When she parked, she sat in silence, staring at the dashboard. Whatever storm she'd just stepped into, it was only beginning.
She arrived home, dropping onto the couch with a groan. Her mind raced as she kicked off her heels, tossing them aimlessly across the room.
"If he's guilty, why all the pressure?" she muttered, pressing her palms against her forehead.
Before she could unravel her thoughts, a loud chorus of voices jerked her to reality.
"Surprise!!!" Ellie's voice jolted Judy upright, her heart pounding in her chest.
She blinked in disbelief as Ellie and a small group of friends poured into her apartment, carrying balloons, a cake, and the loudest party horn she'd ever heard.
Judy couldn't help but smile. "How did you get into my apartment?" she asked, hugging Ellie tightly. "That's not creepy at all."
"Make a wish, bitch!" Ellie grinned, handing her a cake with a decorative "29" candle.
Judy closed her eyes tightly, her one wish crystal clear: to find her person, the one she could share her life with. She blew out the candle, and the room erupted into cheers and popping wine corks.
The party stretched late into the night, and eventually, it was just Ellie and Judy left on the balcony. Ellie pulled out a cigar and offered one to Judy.
"I thought you quit," Judy remarked.
"I did. But tonight calls for it," Ellie replied, nudging her.
Judy sighed and accepted the cigar. "What the hell," she said, needing a moment to detach from her spiraling thoughts.
Ellie's face turned somber. "Adrian's mom called. His dad was in an accident...he's in a coma."
Judy reached out to console her friend as tears welled in her eyes.
"There goes our engagement," Ellie added bitterly. "It's like we're back in high school, every time we make progress, something happens to throw us back."
Judy hugged her tightly. Ellie had always been her rock, but seeing her like this was heart-wrenching.
Later, after Adrian arrived to pick up Ellie, Judy was left alone in her messy apartment. Exhaustion finally overtook her as she collapsed onto the couch and fell asleep.
At 8:00 a.m. sharp, Judy arrived at the station, eager to meet the mysterious Ethan Carter. She introduced herself to Detective Laura Bennett, who was leaning against her desk with a cigar in hand.
"Good morning, Detective Bennett. I'm Judith Myers, but please call me Judy. I'm here to speak with my client, Ethan Carter," she said, extending her hand.
The detective lowered her glasses, her sharp Texan accent cutting through the room. "M'rning, lawyer. Boy, you're early," she said, ignoring the handshake and taking a long drag from her cigar.
Judy stood out in her immaculately tailored cream suit, her caramel skin glowing under the station's fluorescent lights. Her matching white heels and bag gave her an air of polished authority, her dark brown hair cascading neatly down her back. She appeared poised and professional, the picture-perfect lawyer. She flashed her brightest smile, but it only seemed to amuse the detective further.
Detective Bennett, on the other hand, was her complete opposite. Her tanned skin bore the signs of sleepless nights, and dark circles framed her eyes. Her mismatched outfit and messy bun hinted at someone who had long stopped caring about appearances.
'Tis way, princess," Bennett drawled with a sarcastic smirk, flicking her cigar onto the ground and crushing it underfoot. She beckoned Judy with a lazy wave, her tone laced with thinly veiled amusement.
Judy pursed her lips but didn't respond, choosing to focus on the task at hand. She squared her shoulders and followed the detective down the hall, ready to face whatever or whoever was waiting for her.
Judy entered the dimly lit interrogation room, the scent of stale coffee and disinfectant thick in the air. She paused for a moment, taking in the man seated across from her. Ethan Carter was nothing like she'd imagined. Dressed in a rumpled shirt and slacks, his face was shadowed with stubble, and his eyes were bloodshot, betraying exhaustion. But there was something striking about him, his composed demeanor despite the circumstances.
"Mr. Carter," Judy began, her heels clicking against the floor as she approached the table. "I'm Judith Myers, your court-appointed attorney. But you can call me Judy."
Ethan barely glanced at her, his gaze fixed on the table. "I didn't ask for a lawyer," he muttered, his voice low and gravelly.
Judy set her bag down with deliberate precision and slid into the chair across from him. "No, but you need one. So, here I am."
The man in front of her barely reacted. His head was bowed, his hands clasped tightly on the table as though trying to keep them from trembling.
"I didn't do it," he muttered, his voice barely audible.
Judy studied him for a moment, her sharp eyes catching the shimmer of unshed tears. Was he remorseful? Or just trying to gain sympathy?
"Sir," she began calmly, "I'm your lawyer. If I'm going to help you, I need you to be honest with me."
His head snapped up, and for the first time, she saw his face clearly. Ethan Carter. She recognized him from the news. Tall, with a rugged, almost unkept appearance, he looked like a man who hadn't slept in days. But his eyes—they were cold, piercing, and full of defiance.
"I said I didn't do it," he spat, his tone sharp enough to send a chill down her spine.
Judy forced herself to maintain her composure. "Why don't we start from the beginning?" she suggested, carefully averting her gaze to her notepad.
Silence lingered between them for a moment. Judy opened her notepad, her pen poised.
"Let's start with the basics. Where were you the night Ryan Cole was murdered?"
"I've already told them everything," Ethan said, his jaw tightening. "I wasn't there."
Judy's pen hovered over the page, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"That's not what they're saying. According to the police, you were the last person to see him alive. And they claim they have witnesses who place you at the scene."
"They're lying."
"Then help me prove it," Judy replied calmly, holding his gaze.
Ethan studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair.
"Ryan and I were friends. I'd never hurt him. I wasn't even at the party that night."
Judy nodded, jotting down his words.
"Then where were you?"
"At home," he said, his tone clipped.
"Alone?"
"Yes."
Judy sighed internally. An alibi with no witnesses wasn't going to hold up in court. "Did anyone see you that night? A neighbor, a delivery person, anyone who can corroborate your story?"
Ethan shook his head. "No."
"Okay," Judy said, keeping her tone neutral. "Then let's talk about the weapon. The police are saying the murder weapon, a knife, has your fingerprints on it. Care to explain that?"
Ethan's fists clenched on the table. "That's impossible. I've never even seen the damn thing."
Judy tilted her head, studying him. His frustration seemed genuine, but she'd seen skilled liars before. She had to be sure. "Look, If there's something you're not telling me..."
"I didn't kill him!" Ethan's voice rose, echoing in the small room. He leaned forward, his face inches from hers.
"I don't know how my fingerprints got on that knife, and I don't know why they're trying to pin this on me. But I didn't do it."
Judy didn't flinch under his intensity. Instead, she calmly closed her notepad and leaned back in her chair.
"Okay. Then we'll focus on finding out who did."
Ethan blinked, his anger deflating slightly. "You believe me?"
"It's not about what I believe," Judy said, standing up and gathering her things.
"It's about what I can prove. And right now, the evidence is stacked against you. If we're going to clear your name, you need to trust me."
Ethan hesitated, then gave a small nod. "Fine."
As Judy reached for the door, it swung open, revealing a police officer. "Mr. Carter's bail has been posted. He's free to go for now."
Ethan rose slowly, confusion flashing across his face.
"Bail? Who posted it?"
The officer shrugged. "Anonymous."
Judy frowned, the wheels in her mind already turning. Whoever had paid Ethan's bail was playing a game, one she wasn't sure she liked.
"Come on," she said to Ethan, motioning for him to follow her.
"Let's get you out of here."
As she escorted him out of the station, Judy's mind raced with questions. Who had posted the bail? Why? And, more importantly, what did they stand to gain?
One thing was certain, this case was far more complicated than it seemed.