ANSEL LUTHER'S RISE TO POWER

Courtroom

The morning sun passed through the tall windows of the courthouse, casting long shadows across the polished floor.

Ansel stepped through the door, his polished shoes clicking softly as he walked down the aisle toward the front of the courtroom.

He had chosen his outfit carefully, a tailored suit, crisp white shirt, and a dark tie that made him look every bit the man he had grown to become.

As soon as he entered, heads turned, including those of his father and stepmother, who were seated across the room.

His stepmother's brows furrowed when she saw him, her lips pursing in disapproval.

Ansel didn’t acknowledge them. Instead, he walked toward the plaintiff’s seat with a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

The kind of smirk that said he had been waiting for this moment. His father, seated a few rows behind the defense table, leaned over to whisper something to his wife. He noticed how his stepmother hissed under her breath, clearly displeased.

‘They think I spent my last