𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 ✓ (𝟷𝟾+)

Hopes and dreams

Arin

The courthouse felt cooler than usual. It was the day our trials began. The last time we were here, it was Brandon trying to move the court dates up for his benefit. Now again, we were to face him in the final rounds of who gets whom. Who controls Murphy Enterprises?

Roger held my hand and walked into the courthouse. Dad saw us and waved. He leaned over, greeting us both with a long-lasting hug as if we were going to be deployed. We also saw most of our office staff who came, rallying for us. With a head tilt, a cursory handshake and words of appreciation, Roger interacted with every one of them before turning to dad.

"We need all the support we can. Thank you for bringing them here."

His words made both dad and Xavier cover up the grime look on their faces. I wasn't sure if it was this day or the fact that for one month, we all faced our demons, which took a toll on all of us but suffice to say, we endured.

Straightening his backbone, dad placed a hand over Roger's shoulder, rattling him. For a while, he'd been focused at a distance as if contemplating how all this would turn out.

"We didn't bring them. They rallied up themselves for your support, son. Brandon will go down," Dad stated with such certainty that it reinstated the lost confidence in all of us. The otherwise weary hope resuscitated under his wordy influence and with a new zest, my heart thumped.

Not that I was scared of the case, we had it airtight. It was Brandon's tactics that had me worried. Always having known to play dirty, he was bound to keep some cards close to his chest for today. With every passing moment, my breath paced up. I dragged in more air and exhaled nothing. In the cold of the morning, I resembled a person who stood under the shower with her clothes on. Roger lent his kerchief, dabbing my forehead and winking at me. Even amid everything and while eying the approaching tornado, he still had an eye on me.

The court was filled with almost everyone from both our companies. Brandon's staff filled the rest of the spaces.

Among them, I saw him - the vile man more lethal than any poison and more cunning than any animal known. Eying me, Brandon stood up and walked over. It took everything in me to control the urge to punch him as he leaned forward, blowing down his spicy sweat infused scent on me.

I knew Roger was eying me from the front, probably worried for me. I assumed that Brandon thought he had the win when he released my truth to the tabloids. What he didn't fathom was the fact that whoever worse he could do to me was already done. He stabbed me, twisted the truth knife into my gut and let me bleed dry. Now, against him, I wasn't scared. I was already dead to feel anything other than hatred for the man, who destroyed Roger's family and life.

"You look and dress well for a woman who was a hooker," with hooded eyes, Brandon spoke.

Although my skin clawed itself back at his words, I decided to stand my ground against his last attempt to sabotage my confidence. Over time, I came to realize, my strength came from my family and theirs, from me. If I crumbled, they did too. I scanned the monstrous man that stood in front and a smile emerged from the corners of my lips.

"And you'd know all about hookers. Isn't it Brandon?"

His hands curled up to his chest and he tilted his head. "Is this the way to talk to your fiancé's father?"

Like a thunderstorm, my answer rose from the depths of my heart. "My fiancé's father died the day he decided to kill his wife. This man," my finger danced at him, "who's standing in front of me is a ghost of a dead man. A walking dead, for he has no soul."