𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬 | 𝟏𝟖 +

𝐒 𝐈 𝐗

Dakota

I was deep in the middle of another case review, trying to keep up with the endless pile on my desk, when I heard Ms. Beaumont hang up her phone. She let out a sigh, soft but noticeable, the kind that only someone like me, who was growing attuned to her every movement, would pick up on.

I glanced up just in time to see her standing, reaching for her Gucci handbag with that same controlled elegance she seemed to wear like armor. I quickly sat up straighter, watching her carefully as she slung the bag over her shoulder.

"Dakota." she said, her voice steady and unyielding. "Follow me. Bring your phone."

Before I even had a chance to respond, she was already moving toward the door, her long strides leaving me scrambling in her wake. I grabbed my phone, hastily stuffed it into my pocket, and practically tripped over my own feet trying to keep up with her. Ms. Beaumont moved with purpose, her heels clicking against the floor in a rhythm I could almost set my heartbeat to, and I found myself nearly jogging just to stay close.

By the time we reached the elevator, I was slightly out of breath. I stepped in beside her, trying to compose myself, though my curiosity was practically bubbling over. She pressed the button for the ground floor, and I bit my lip, finally deciding I couldn't hold back the question.

"Ms. Beaumont." I asked, glancing up at her. "Where are we going?"

Her gaze shifted to me, calm and collected as ever. "To court." she replied, her tone carrying a matter-of-fact certainty. "You're going to observe the case."

A grin spread across my face before I could stop it. Court. I was going to see her in action, up close, in a real courtroom. "I can't wait to see how it goes in court." I admitted, unable to hide the excitement in my voice.

For a moment, she just stared at me, her eyes narrowing slightly, as though she were trying to read something in my expression. Then, barely perceptible, a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. It was subtle, just a faint flicker of amusement that disappeared as quickly as it came, but it was there. She was amused.

The elevator doors opened, and she strode out, not bothering to check if I was following. Of course, I was; I would've trailed her all the way to the ends of the earth at that moment. We exited the building, and I trailed behind her as she approached a sleek black G-Wagon waiting at the curb. A driver, who seemed to be expecting her, greeted her with a polite nod. Ms. Beaumont returned his greeting with a quiet acknowledgment before sliding into the back seat, gesturing for me to follow.

I climbed in after her, barely able to contain my excitement. As the driver closed the door and started the engine, Ms. Beaumont turned to him with a quiet, "To the courthouse, please." She then settled back into her seat, her expression returning to that familiar look of stoic calm.

The ride was smooth and quiet, but my mind was anything but. I kept glancing out the window, feeling my pulse quicken with each passing block. All I'd ever heard were stories about Ms. Beaumont in court, stories of her ruthlessness, her intensity, her ability to dismantle an argument with a single word. I couldn't help but wonder: was she truly as terrifying in the courtroom as people said she was? Was she the type of lawyer who left opponents trembling in their seats?

When we finally arrived, the courthouse loomed before us, a large, imposing building that seemed to radiate an air of solemnity. Ms. Beaumont stepped out of the car first, and I quickly followed, trying to match her brisk pace as she strode toward the entrance.

"Stay silent at all times and just watch." she instructed, barely looking at me as we entered the building. Her tone was calm but left no room for argument. I nodded, feeling a surge of nerves and anticipation settle in my stomach.

As we made our way through the courthouse corridors, I tried to keep my footsteps as quiet as possible, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention. Ms. Beaumont led me to a large courtroom, her gaze fixed straight ahead, her posture unwavering. We entered, and I could see heads turning subtly, eyes following her every move. There was a weight to her presence, a magnetism that demanded respect, if not outright fear.

We took our seats near the front, and I sat beside her, careful not to make a sound. I stole glances at her every few seconds, watching the way she adjusted her notes, her gaze sharp and focused. She exuded confidence, her every move precise and calculated.

Soon, the proceedings began. Ms. Beaumont sat forward, her attention laser-focused on the opposing counsel as they spoke. It was like watching a lioness watching prey, waiting for the right moment to strike. She didn't interrupt, didn't react, just listened, an eerie calm radiating from her. I could feel the tension in the room thickening as everyone seemed to hold their breath, waiting for her turn to speak.

When she finally rose to her feet, it was like the air shifted. Her presence was magnetic, commanding every eye in the room as she addressed the judge and jury with a voice that was calm but cutting. Her words were sharp, deliberate, and precise, dissecting the opposing counsel's arguments piece by piece. She didn't shout, didn't raise her voice, but somehow, her calm intensity was more terrifying than any outburst could ever be.

I watched, entranced, as she moved through her argument with a calculated precision that left no room for doubt. She questioned witnesses with a quiet ruthlessness, her gaze steady and unyielding, each word carefully chosen to elicit the exact response she wanted. Every move she made was purposeful, every pause calculated to keep the jury hanging on her every word. She was relentless, sparing no one as she dismantled the opposition's case with a cold efficiency that left them visibly shaken.

When she finally finished, there was a palpable silence in the room, as if everyone were processing the impact of her words. She sat down beside me, her expression as calm as ever, as though the display of controlled ferocity we'd just witnessed was nothing more than another day at the office.

I could barely breathe. Watching her in action, seeing the way she commanded the courtroom, I felt a surge of admiration mixed with something I couldn't quite name, a kind of awe that bordered on reverence. It was one thing to hear stories about her ruthlessness; it was another to witness it firsthand.

As we left the courthouse, I struggled to find words, the excitement still buzzing in my veins. But Ms. Beaumont walked in silence, her expression neutral, as though she hadn't just eviscerated an entire case in front of a packed courtroom.

Once we were back in the G-Wagon, I finally dared to speak. "Ms. Beaumont... that was incredible."

She glanced at me, her expression unreadable, but I thought I caught the faintest hint of a smirk at the corner of her lips.

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~ R