Chapter 1
Once the doors opened and a hand out for you to hold, throngs of reporters and microphones rushed up to you. As you descended the courthouse stairs to your car, people asked questions. You witnessed how they pushed each other to capture your attention so they could speak to you and ask you questions.
It was like this before, but you were used to it. After handling another case, it was successful. Just as you had anticipated, you did well. A case of criminal homicide—murder—and non-negligent manslaughter—guilty. This case was tragic.
How can a mother be this irresponsible, cruel, and evil?
“Y/N, how can you compare this case to your previous ones?”
“Was the mother found guilty, or was she just crazy?”
“What can you say about this specific case, Ms. Y/N?”
As you held your breath against your throat, you turned to face them and smiled. “It was tragic; no child or person deserves that.” You said it in one go. Cameras flashed, voices murmured, and heads nodded to your answer. You saw your car at the corner of your eye; it was time to go.
“Now, does that answer all of your questions? I’m afraid I have to leave.” You made eye contact with one of the reporters, smiling as he got taken aback by the sudden interaction. Despite being slightly taller than him, you appeared to be around the same age as him. He seemed young and uncomplicated in his clothing.
Though you did not wait for their answers, you went to your car with the driver holding the door. As they pursued you to your car but failed to do so because your driver had already closed the door and your car was tinted, you gave them one last smile.
Your ass entered the car, and you threw your head back, sighing. Outside your window, the paparazzi continued to point their cameras in your direction. When you gave the case another thought, you found it difficult to understand how a mother could subject her child to such abuse. A neighbor discovered an infant who had been beaten. The neighbor rushed the infant to the hospital. The infant later died as a direct result of the injuries. The investigation revealed that the mother was responsible. The mother was not considered mentally competent.
You were massaging your head, believing that the case was over. You worked hard this month, and you deserved a break. You just wanted to run away. And you knew exactly where to go—your safest place of all safe places.
You read your messages and smiled to yourself.
I’m the luckiest person alive to have such a woman like you
I can’t wait to do everything with you, my darling
God, I love you so much
I promise to love you with everything I have until the end.Received at 12:45 p.m.
Oh, how you cherished this man in your life. You look like an idiot while smiling on your phone. More than you could ever fathom, you love this man. Love is a very potent emotion.
“Where are we going, Ms. Y/N?” you asked, snapping out of your daydreaming about your boyfriend. “At my apartment, please.” You smiled, and the driver nodded. You and your boyfriend share an apartment; only your loved ones and close friends know about your relationship. You wanted to protect him from the media.
——
There were no lights on, and the entire apartment was silent. By this point, you were sure that your boyfriend was home. It was 5 p.m. when you checked the time on your phone.
“I’m home.” A familiar smell made you stop. The curtains were drawn, the living room was empty, the kitchen was empty, and the bathroom was empty, but the entire house reeked of it. The smell was potent even though your shared bedroom was closed.
Your boyfriend was lying on your shared bed when you opened the door, holding something in his lips and fingers. The same hand you used to hold and the same lips you kiss.
You were able to breathe out, “What the fuck are you doing—what the fuck is this?” The bag you had been holding was now on the ground. “Fuck,” your boyfriend mumbled as he tried to get up and make his way to you.
When your hand made contact with his right cheek while he was trying to stand up but failing, you felt a little stinging sensation shoot through your fingers. “Y/N—” His body remained on the floor when you knelt to his level. Your right hand, the one you used to hit Dave, cupped his face as you said, “I am a lawyer, Dave.”
Hot tears fell as you stated things to him word for word, feeling humiliated for liking someone who was using drugs: “I am a lawyer, and I’m dating someone who’s on fucking drugs right now.”
“Dave, baby,” all of your focus that had been on your lover was now directed at a woman your age who was in front of you holding a plastic bag with what appeared to be substances in it. “Who the fuck are you?” the woman exclaimed as her eyebrow shot up.
You let go of your boyfriend’s face before you let out a laugh. “Y/N, dear, please—” He was still able to speak, although he did so through unsteady breathing. “Shut the fuck up, David.”
Anger-filled tears dried up as you shifted your attention to the woman in front of you and moved a few steps forward. She recognized you when you stopped a few inches in front of her. “Monrox..”
“It’s Attorney Monrox to you.” The room was filled with heavy breathing and heartbeats that were nearly pulsing. “A criminal lawyer.” Your eyes shifted to her hands, which were carrying substances.
She shoved you before you could react, causing you to falter and fall to the ground. You caught her ankle, causing her to fall to the ground with you. You pulled her by the foot, and she began to strike you, her claws digging into your skin. You then pulled yourself to your feet and hovered over her. She was moving a lot, attempting to fight back, and she managed to grab you by your hair, causing you to hurl your head back in severe agony. Her claws were digging into your skin.
“Fuck!” you shouted, grabbing her hand and twisting it before kneeling on her sides of the body, flipping her to her stomach, and grabbing her hair before leaning down to her ear, “Such a pussy from running away from me. Scared, dear?” She was groaning, and you felt that she was going to explode from the words you said, purposely pissing her off. “You fucking wish, Monrox.”
You laughed as you reached for the handcuffs on your waistband and felt the gun. She continued to wriggle beneath you as you turned her hand again, causing her to groan in agony.
“Stop moving before I fucking blow your head off.”
Glimpsing at the corner of your eye, you saw your boyfriend still on the floor, eyes red—not from the crying but from the drugs.
“What, you’re going to kill me now, Monrox?” she laughed still on her stomach, her face facing on the left, and her blonde covering her face. “You’re just like your father.” You got taken back making you grasp her hair. “A killer.”
She laughed like a maniac. You were about to slam her head on the ground when your driver was on the door frame. “Call the cops.” The driver nodded and obeyed before grabbing the nearby phone, but before he could dial the number, there was a loud bang from the front door.
“Open up! Police!”
——
“Thank you, Attorney Monrox. The neighbors were also disturbed by the smell coming from your apartment. We also received some phone calls about the disturbance.” The head chief explained while you nodded at every word he said, and from the corner of your eye, you saw the woman, whom you soon figured out to be “Trixy Baile.”
The police forced her to let her inside the car, but being the stubborn woman she is, she fought back. “We had been finding her for months. We figured out she had been switching identities and that her real name is Trixy Baile, hiding under the name Olivia Williams.”
You hummed before they gave you a blanket. “Thank you,” you smiled. “No scratches, ma’am? Injuries?” the policewoman asked, holding an aid kit, but you shrugged her off and said, “I’m fine, thank you.”
They saluted before leaving you alone. You saw how they took your boyfriend and put him inside the car while Trixy was still fighting back. Oh damn, she’s feisty.
You walked towards them, and when she saw you, she stopped fighting back.
“You. Damn you, Monrox.” Every word that came out of her mouth was hard as a rock. “See you in hell,” she said, only for you to hear. After those words came out, she laughed like a maniac, tilting her head to the side before smiling and showing her fang liked teeth.
“I am hell.”
Smirking before turning around and leaving her behind. As soon as you said those words, she stopped laughing. When they had the opportunity, the police loaded her into the car. “Take her away, and make sure she lands in a mental facility.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Now your boyfriend—or ex-boyfriend, rather—is also being taken away for further investigation. You saw how they were going to load him up in the car, and once he saw you, his eyes widen, but before he can run toward you, the police stop him. Eye-contact.
Though you held eye contact with him, the same eyes you gave him to make him fall for you turned into cold, hooded eyes. You saw how his lips moved, saying your name.
It didn’t last long before the police pushed him into the car. They’ve taken them away now. The cars lit up the area in blue and red before disappearing into the city road, their sounds wailing in your ears. You saw the cars disappearing, and some police were still inside your apartment.
“Ma’am? We checked the surveillance camera, and the man was seen with multiple women bringing them inside your apartment. We also found this.” The police held up a red velvet box, and already knowing what was inside, you didn’t react. “It was found under your bed.”
“Throw it; it might be contaminated.” You gave him the box, smiling afterward. He obeyed and nodded.
No feelings were felt, too numb to react. It left you thinking. Thinking about how you were treated to such things as that. Thinking about how easily you believed those words.
You were a prey to him. Just like how bears can be too dumb to see those traps. Just like how mice fall for those traps. Just like how you fell for his words. He was the trap. He trapped you.
The thought of going back to him every time you two fought. The thought of how dumb you were to believe his words. It left you thinking, “You’re a lawyer.” You don’t let the judge believe and get fooled by the criminals’ words, and you let them know your worth, and yet you let someone fool you.
You pitied yourself for it. Fell for it once and never again.
“Ma’am, we found your phone. It’s ringing, and I believe your mother is calling.” The police gave you your phone, and you thanked them before they left you alone. You saw the caller’s ID. and it was indeed your mother; you answered it with shaking hands.
“Mom,” shaky breaths were let out, tears preventing them from falling.
“I heard.” You closed your eyes, putting your hand in your mouth, biting it, and preventing yourself from letting out a sob. “Come home to us, my lovely.”
“You were fooled once,” she said in a stern voice before adding, “Don’t let it happen again.”
Exhaling silently, calming yourself before answering. “Yes, mother.”
