Chapter 3

Breakfast was a quiet affair.

It was as though everyone could sense the heavy tumultuous tension in the air prevalent between Anthony and Mitchell. Ordinarily, the table would have been engulfed in excited chatter about the day’s plans, especially since it was Mitchell’s first day at Blue County Law Firm. Instead, all that could be heard were perfunctory requests.

“Can someone please pass the salt?” Stephanie asked.

A few minutes later, Steve asked for the pepper shaker for the eggs. Michael asked for more peanut butter for his bread. Then all was silent. Eventually, Mitchell was the first to leave the table.

“But you have barely touched your breakfast, Mitchie,” Stephanie observed.

“I can’t eat anymore,” Mitchell said, smoothing her white well-ironed blazer dress paired fashionably with black stilettos.

“I hope you are not getting sick. That’s the last thing any of us needs. What with driyns being arrested everywhere now?”

The room was at once swollen in turgid silence.

“That’s not going to happen, Steph. No need to spew negativities this early in the morning,” Mitchell corrected. “Remember to microwave Dad’s lunch before you go to school.”

“It’s not a school; it’s a six-month training tech academy,” Stephanie said with an eye roll.

“Whatever, Steph, just do what you need to,” Mitchell said hurriedly. “I love you all.”

“Love you too,” they all chorused as she hurried out of the house.

***

The offices of Blue County Law Firm were located inside one of the three skyscraper buildings in Bay Fair. Mitchell hurriedly skidded into the lift, swallowing her trepidation as it went higher, and finally stopped at the fiftieth floor. No matter how many times she had been here, she couldn’t stop admiring the beauty of the office. It was a lovely white-on-white monochrome office, compartmentalized into small glass cubicles that overlooked fifty floors and stunning panoramic views of Bay Fair. There was one large conference room and a small area for relaxation with refreshments. It was where the employees had lunch or bought any type of snack with just a coin. The whole atmosphere was pervaded by air conditioning, well-being, and corporate rivalries that silently stalked the air.

One of the secretaries led Mitchell to the cubicle prepared for her. In contrast to the lovely white room, a black desk, chair, and cabinet had been arranged strategically. The black complimented the white perfectly.

“I hope you like your new office?” The secretary asked.

“Of course,” Mitchell smiled. To think her dad had asked her to resign, to throw all of this in the trash can. Wait till he glimpsed her new office. He would chew his words.

“Break time is by noon. Those who bring lunch from home can sit at a kitchen table to eat. If not, you need just a coin to take out any snack and drink of your choice, no matter its usual cost.”

“That’s amazing,” Mitchell said.

The secretary nodded and smiled before leaving.

Mitchell settled behind her desk and checked out her new laptop, brand-new and shiny, just waiting for her to input a password. She would need to liven up this office a bit. A few pictures of her siblings on the table, scented candles, and nice colorful objects on the cabinet. Gold, white, blue…

“Savoring your new place in the world?” George Woodstock asked, poking his head into the office.

Mitchell gave a little jump. “Oh, you scared me, George!”

He laughed. “My bad.”

“Can I come in?”

“Please, it’s all yours.”

He shut the glass doors gently and eased himself into the seat opposite hers. “It’s majorly yours, Mitchie. You’ve earned it, and you deserve it.”

“Thank you.”

“I hope you are getting ready for your first new case. I should also warn you that the Blue County Law Firm takes on all sorts of ugly cases that garner lots of press, so you have to be prepared.”

“Well, the dirtier the case, the more money that flows in, isn’t that right?”

George laughed heartily. “That’s good thinking, Mitchie. I see you are not afraid to get your hands dirty. That’s definitely going to make you loads of money. Way bigger than your base salary here. We give large annual bonuses to a competent staff at the end of every year. I’m not going to mention names, of course, but some people pocketed in over 250,000 dollars just from bonuses alone.”

Mitchell’s eyes popped in surprise. “If I had that, I’d never have to worry about putting my siblings through college.”

“Yeah, and you’d even pocket a little something for yourself. Imagine buying yourself pretty little dresses and shoes and whatnot.”

Mitchell inwardly wondered whether he had truly come to give her the incentive to work hard or if he was simply looking for an excuse to spend time with her.

“I solemnly promise to do my best.”

“I expect nothing less, Mitchie. Oh, and by the way, we’re going to be working on your first case here together.”

Music to Mitchell’s ears. She told herself she was only flattered. After all, who would not want to work alongside the lovely George Woodstock?

***

Anthony Edwards was not sure he was ever capable of forgetting the day he met his late wife. Suzanne had been a lovely, fierce, and strong woman. She had been a brown-eyed dark-haired rare beauty that caught his breath over and over, with a mind-boggling intelligence that portrayed that she saw the world beyond its nuances and surface truths. She saw it for its true and intricate mysteries. How he wished that she was here now to talk some sense into his daughter Mitchell.

Anthony was not fooled by the theatrics she had displayed at the library the other night. The young always forgot that what they could barely see standing on the shoulders of others, the older ones could see, even if they were crawling on their bellies. And all he could currently see was catastrophe coming in the form of a whirlwind — a George Woodstock and Sara Woodstock whirlwind. But then, how was he to explain these practical and rational fears and knowledge to a daughter steeped in her own erroneous beliefs?

Anthony’s mind drifted back to the night when he had tried to tell her to stay away from that accursed law firm. Her departing words to him were, “No one is ever truly safe.”

What did that truly mean? That his lifelong efforts to keep them safe and away from the ruthless and menacing band of driyn hunters were nothing but a facade? Or that one day it would all be in vain? The thought made Anthony’s spine shiver.

If they were ever caught, their deaths were going to be made as cruel and painful as possible. Sara Woodstock would cruelly rub it all in, and to continuously wield fear as a powerful tool, she would unleash the worst execution of all time. And all the high-ranking Blue County law partners and executives who seemed like they were in love with Mitchell and her skills would stand alongside, watching as Sara nailed Mitchell and her family members to the cross.

And leading the onlookers would be George Woodstock. Mitchell was entwined around the young man’s charm because she didn’t know better.

***

“So the man we are currently taking to trial is from the mafia,” George informed Mitchell later that afternoon. They were at his office, which was one of the biggest cubicles in Blue County. Glass walls surrounded them, showcasing fantastic views of the city. George’s office was furnished for a man. Richly paneled bookcase stockpiled with books, a bouffant oak desk, and a swivel chair which he sat on now, looking over at Mitchell on the other side of the table.

Her brown eyes widened, and for a moment, George was so captivated that he forgot what she asked. “I…er…I’m sorry, what?”

“I asked if we have an airtight case,” Mitchell repeated patiently.

“Well, we are building one,” George responded enthusiastically. “That is why we need you.”

“And are you really sure a rookie like me is meant to be on something as serious as this? Are you sure the other executives will not have an issue with this?” Mitchell asked, worry lines etched on her forehead.

George smiled. “Your fears are legitimate, but I need you to understand something. No executive is as powerful or more powerful than I am in this company. No one questions me because they do not have the authority to question my choices. My word is law, as long as my mother is not here. She is the only one powerful enough to question me,” George admitted.

“Because the law firm is hers?” Mitchell asked, half a question.

“Because the law firm is hers,” George confirmed. Then as an ego boost, he added, “But she is not as responsible for its power as I am.”

And it was true. It was what he threw in the face of the executives this morning when they outrightly began to protest against his announcement that he was, in fact, bringing the new lawyer Mitchell Edwards on the Bassett’s case.

“You can’t do that!” Frederick, one of the most brilliant lawyers at the firm, had shouted, eyes spewing shock and outrage. “I do not doubt Mitchell’s abilities and potential. But this is a huge case. We need Bassett in jail this time; otherwise, the firm would lose its dynamic prestige!”

“If I recall correctly, you let him slip through your fingers last time, Frederick, so you are one to talk. Our dynamic prestige, as you call it, nearly came to a screeching grinding halt because of you and your gross ineptitude,” George spat back coolly.

Fred quietened, hurt that George had wasted no time hurling his disgrace at his face. “You know it wasn’t all my fault. You know the judge discharged and acquitted him…”

“The judge set him free because he has every judge in this bloody town on his payroll! If you had listened to me and applied to have a change of court venue, Bassett would have been rotting in jail for a million years by now! All of you have failed spectacularly to put him in jail, and yet you dare question me for bringing in Mitchell Edwards on this high-profile case? What right do you have to question my orders and decisions?”

Martha Peters cleared her throat nervously. “I think what Fredrick means, sir, is that you can do this on your own, and the girl can watch and learn from the sidelines. She could even assist you, but there is no need for her to be in on it as a prosecuting counsel. If she is going to get started, let her start by winning a small theft case and build herself up little by little.”

There were nods around the table.

George’s eyes roamed past all of them in subtle disgust for a minute before he stood up and buttoned his suit, deliberately planting a fist on the table. “You all seem to be forgetting that even though Sara Woodstock conceived the idea of this company and brought it to fruition, I have been largely responsible for the power, influence, and supremacy it wields. I have been the brainchild behind all of your successes. If I need your suggestions, I will ask for them, but until then, Mitchell Edwards will be the one to prosecute Kylian Bassett and dump his mafia ass in jail. Is that understood?”

“I hope you do not regret this,” came a grudging response.

“Oh, I never regret anything. Can’t say the same for you,” George responded confidently without so much as a backward glance.

That had been this morning, but there was no need to alarm the beautiful, bright, and idealistic young girl in front of him. The executives were young sharks, only looking out for themselves and their paychecks at the end of the day. From time to time, it was necessary to remind them who was in charge. It was necessary to remind them he was more than just the blond, blue-eyed charming son of Sara Woodstock. He was one of the most powerful attorneys in Bay Fair, who had worked his way up with grit and not just through the power of his name.

“I consider myself very fortunate that you have chosen me for this case, Mr. Woodstock,” Mitchell said tentatively. “I most definitely will not fail you.”

George smiled at her. That was the opening he needed. He came around the table and crouched beside her. Michelle’s corporate pencil skirt had a small thigh-high slit, and sitting down had made the slit move up slightly. She was uncomfortable as George stared at it brazenly as he spoke.

“That is what I hoped to hear. Some of the executives do not believe that you are up to snuff, Mitchell. They believe I am wrong for choosing you to prosecute this case, but I believe, as you have said, that you will not let me down. Or would you, sweetheart?” George asked, his blue eyes drilling holes into Mitchell.

“No, I most definitely will not fail you, and I will prove them all wrong,” she vowed fiercely.

George smiled and patted her thigh. “That’s what I hoped to hear.”