Let's have, sex on the beach Playing in the sand Just you and me Hand in hand C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon
𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓
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𝐋𝐎𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒, 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐀 𝐀𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝐭𝐡, 𝟖:𝟑𝟎 𝐚𝐦
|| I still don't ever fucking miss || — 𝐒𝐘𝐑𝐄
ఌ
The courtroom was packed, every seat filled with spectators, reporters, and others hungry for the spectacle. The trial of Acius had captivated the nation, a name so known to the public ear that everyone else couldn't help but to tune in to hear . He was a man who, according to the prosecution, had built an empire of crime—drug distribution, money laundering, tax evasion, bribery, obstruction of justice, and more. Yet, as he sat at the defense table, he looked anything but guilty.
Syre's suit was sharp and perfectly tailored, his posture unshakably composed. Even with the weight of countless charges hanging over him, he exuded a quiet confidence that unnerved his enemies and enthralled his followers.
In the first row of the gallery, Amerie, sat poised, her dark eyes fixed on him. She had been called to testify earlier in the week, her loyalty tested in front of a hostile crowd. Syre had warned her it might come to this, but nothing could have prepared her for the cross-examination or the accusatory stares. She had stood firm, but now, as the jury deliberated, her hands trembled in her lap. He assured her multiple times she did fine, but that didn't ease her nerves any less.
She knew and understood that this moment could go one of two ways for not just him, but the entire life and family she knew with him. He had a long talk with her just the prior day during a conjugal visit, explaining exactly how things could do. Exploring every possible outcome because despite the fact they hoped for the best, reality was that no matter what, the jury of unknown people decided his fate.
Amerie's leg bounced up and down rapidly, teeth nibbled along her bottom lip with the longer they sat in silence. She looked to Syre who seemed to be in deep thought, his eyes almost looking through her until the sound of her dropped phone snapped him from his gaze. Two blinks brought his eyes back onto her from where she sat across the circular table they both occupied.
"When tomorrow comes, you gotta go in that courtroom, hold your head high, and you let shit rock the way it is. No tears, no nothing. If this don't go the way we want it to, then we gon figure it out accordingly—."
"Syre you say that as if it's something so simple." She interjected, eyebrows furrowed as she began to feel herself growing frustrated. "It's not just figuring something out, because it's not just going to be a little 6 month, 1 year sentence. If you do not leave with me tomorrow, my children and I will never see you again unless it is in a prison. Do you understand that?" Her tone was so stern and slick, a mask in attempts of hiding the anxiety that coursed through her system.
