Temporary Agreement (DNF)

Chapter 1

George POV

My eyes being blinded by my lamp light, shining down on the hundreds of documents spread across my wooden desk. I yawn, restlessness catching up to me as I feel my eyelids become heavier and heavier.

I can't take a break, as much as I need to, I cannot. I have too many people relying on me. One wrong move and I could be killed. It's thrilling, it's rewarding.

It's tearing me apart, slowly.

Working for countless amounts of people who you know have committed the crime and trying to claim they are somehow innocent is tough. I don't know why I do this to myself. You might think I like the challenge, or being pushed so hard I am on the edge of my seat with every case I have to defend for these criminals that would put a bullet through my head with no hesitation.

The truth is, I am just some corrupt lawyer that is driven by money. Driven by the idea I could make my parents proud by buying them a house, or by paying them back for the law school they put me through.

Buy myself a Range Rover and take care of a few dogs, preferably rescues.

Fall in love. If love is even real at this point.

Truth is I am a 24 year old man that has a very successful career, nice house, lots of money, well known, a good amount of friends, but never been in a relationship.

And with all that, I have never felt more alone.

How pathetic right? I have never gotten the appeal about having sex but I had done it since society deemed it to be normal. Yes, I have had my fair share of one night stands but nothing meaningful. No one worth keeping in contact with the moment my sobriety returns.

As these restless nights rack up, I come to the conclusion that this will be my last "corrupt" case I chose to put myself through. As much as the money is tempting, I have enough to sustain myself for quite awhile, even if I chose to simply quit all together.

A lawyer still makes an immense amount of money, so I am not sure as to why I let myself get so greedy and fall down this rabbit hole.

Slumped over my desk for the umpteenth time this week, or more like year, I finally decide enough is enough.

I close my books and research, packing everything neatly into my bag to make sure I don't ruin any evidence, or should I say dishonourable evidence, for my case tomorrow morning.

Getting into this situation was pretty easy honestly. After word got out of my success, more people would come to me with big sums of money they would add to my pay check illegally if I would succeed in getting them out of their crimes, and if not then I would have serious debt to pay.

At first it scared me, working for someone with so much pressure and consequence if I failed. But it made me feel like my life had purpose, even if it was for the wrong reasons.

And that amount of cash being flaunted in my face also helped influence my decision.

Pushing myself up from my desk, I freshen up before bed and rehearse my speech for the case tomorrow. It's the conclusion before the jury has to decide whether they are announced guilty or not. Having a jury makes me feel more secure, using their emotions to my advantage really helps me as I pull the strings of their hearts. Making them feel guilty for sending an "innocent" man whose life will be withered away in jail, for something he didn't do. I tell them to imagine it being them in his foot steps, being pulled away from your family because you were falsely accused.

It usually works, but of course I need to actually create fictional evidence that supports my claim that this man is so "innocent".

Before tucking myself into bed, I get pulled from my thoughts when I receive a phone call from my client.