Fate's Unwritten Path

Chapter Six

Sasha's POV:

The alarm jolted me awake, the shrill sound piercing the early morning silence of my apartment. I groaned, reaching out to silence it, my body reluctant to leave the warm cocoon of my bed. But I had no choice; today was going to be a long day, and I needed to get started.

I pushed the covers aside and slipped out of bed, my feet meeting the cold floor with a shiver. Scooby was still curled up in his spot beside me, his soft snores a comforting background noise as I padded to the bathroom.

After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I moved to my closet, searching for something appropriate to wear. Today wasn't just any day—I had a major case to prepare for, and I needed to look the part. I pulled out a pair of black tights and slid them on over my black lace underwear, the fabric clinging to my legs like a second skin.

Next, I reached for the black leather skirt I'd chosen the night before. It hugged my hips, the slight slit on the left leg adding a subtle edge to the otherwise classic look. The slit was just high enough to be noticeable but not too revealing, hiding the tattoo on my right leg that few people knew about.

I then selected a deep red, silk button-up shirt from the closet. The rich color contrasted nicely with the black skirt, and the way the fabric skimmed my skin made me feel confident and powerful. I left the top two buttons undone, allowing just a hint of cleavage to show, enough to assert my presence without being overt.

I moved to the mirror, styling my blonde hair down and curling it into soft waves that fell just below my shoulders. The curls framed my face perfectly, adding a touch of softness to the sharp angles of my jawline. I applied a light layer of makeup—foundation, a touch of blush, mascara, and a bold red lipstick that matched my shirt. The final result was polished, professional, and just a little bit dangerous.

Satisfied with my appearance, I slipped into a pair of black heels that added a few inches to my height, making me feel taller, and more in control. I grabbed my black leather bag and headed for the door, but not before turning back to Scooby.

"Be good today, Scooby," I said, leaning down to scratch behind his ears. He looked up at me with those big, brown eyes, tail wagging slightly as if he understood. "My sister will stop by later to check on you, so no getting into trouble, okay?"

He barked softly in response, and I smiled, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head before straightening up and heading out the door. As much as I hated leaving him behind, I knew he'd be in good hands.

*             *             *

The morning air was crisp as I made my way to work, the city already bustling with activity. My thoughts drifted to the case I had to handle today, my mind running through the details I had meticulously prepared over the past two weeks. It was a murder case—high-profile, messy, and complicated. The kind of case that could make or break a career.

And it wasn't just any client I was defending. It was Lucas's right-hand man, a dangerous individual who was guilty of sin. But that wasn't my concern. My job was to prove his innocence, to poke holes in the prosecution's case until there was nothing left but doubt.

When I arrived at the office, I dove into my work, spending the first half of the day reviewing other cases and ensuring everything was in order. The hours flew by in a blur of paperwork, phone calls, and meetings. I was so focused on the tasks at hand that I completely forgot to eat breakfast or lunch. My stomach growled in protest, but I pushed the hunger aside, determined to stay sharp for the court proceedings.

By the time I arrived at the courthouse, my nerves were buzzing with anticipation. I had prepared meticulously for this moment, and now it was time to put everything into action. The courtroom was filled with tension, the atmosphere thick with the weight of what was at stake.

I took a deep breath as I approached the defense table, setting my bag down and pulling out my notes. My client was already seated, his expression unreadable as he stared straight ahead. Lucas was seated a few rows back, his presence a silent reminder of the importance of this case.

The trial began, and I slipped into my role with ease, every word, and every gesture carefully calculated. I challenged the prosecution at every turn, questioning their evidence, their witnesses, their very narrative. I painted my client as a victim of circumstance, a man caught up in a situation beyond his control. I emphasized the lack of concrete evidence, the unreliable witnesses, and the inconsistencies in the prosecution's story.

As the hours passed, I could feel the momentum shifting in my favor. The jury's expressions were slowly changing, their initial skepticism giving way to doubt. I was getting through to them, planting the seeds of uncertainty that would grow into reasonable doubt.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the closing arguments were made, and the jury was sent to deliberate. The wait was agonizing, every minute dragging on as I paced the hallway outside the courtroom, my mind racing with what-ifs.

When the jury finally returned with their verdict, my heart pounded in my chest. The foreman stood, his voice steady as he announced the words I had been hoping to hear: "Not guilty."

A wave of relief washed over me, my knees nearly buckling under the weight of it. I had done it. I had won. My client was free, and my reputation as one of the best lawyers in New York City was solidified.

As the courtroom emptied, I gathered my things, my hands trembling slightly from the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. I was exhausted, my body crying out for food, for rest, for anything that would help me recover from the stress of the day.

I made my way outside, the cool air hitting my face as I stepped onto the courthouse steps. I barely had time to catch my breath before I spotted Lucas waiting for me.

He approached me with that same quiet intensity, his tall frame looming over mine as he came to stand in front of me. "You look unwell," he commented, his voice low, his eyes sharp as they scanned my face.

"I'm fine," I replied quickly, brushing off his concern. The last thing I wanted was for him to see just how worn out I really was. "Just a long day, that's all."

He didn't look convinced, but he let it go, nodding slightly. "Thank you," he said, his tone sincere. "You did an excellent job today. My man owes you his life."

I nodded, unable to find the words to respond. The weight of the day was finally catching up to me, and all I wanted to do was crawl into bed and forget about everything for a while.

Lucas seemed to sense this and didn't press any further. "Take care of yourself, Sasha," he said before turning and walking away, his presence leaving a void in his wake.

I watched him go, a strange mix of emotions swirling in my chest. I was grateful for the praise, but something was unsettling about his concern. It was almost... possessive like he had claimed some part of me without my permission.

Shaking off the thought, I made my way back to the office. The next two hours were a blur of finishing up loose ends, my mind running on autopilot as I completed the last of my tasks for the day.

Finally, when the last of the paperwork was filed and the lights in the office were dimmed, I allowed myself a moment to breathe. The silence of the empty office was comforting, a stark contrast to the chaos of the day.

I shut off the lights, closing the door behind me as I made my way out of the building. The cool night air greeted me once more, and I took a deep breath, feeling the tension begin to unwind from my shoulders.

It had been a long day, but I had survived. And tomorrow, the fight would continue.