“According to our research, as you might know, we have been following your story for quite a while now. We found out that you were against her marriage with Ethan Mark, and in the process, your daughter got engaged to someone else named Davis John. We also learned that this man was your assistant when you were the branch manager of Woodmark Industries, HavenBrook. We also learned that while Mrs. Isabella Rosewood was seeing this new guy, she sent divorce papers to Ethan Mark, and he had to sign them. Why then do you say he forgot her when obviously she was the one who left?” another reporter asked. “Yes, I was against their marriage, and you cannot blame me for that. I was rich, and I could not imagine my daughter being with someone who could not even afford to buy her a pin for her hair. I never understood why she chose him over Davis John in the first place. After she came to me for help to pay her daughter’s hospital bills, I knew I had to help her see reason and tell her to leave
Asking Mr. X any question was like asking a deaf person some vital questions, as the response he gave to the press was his steadfast look at them; hence, his face was boldly shown on camera.As his silence continued, they kept taking pictures and filming him like the notorious celebrity that he was. Finally, he said, “I want my lawyer.”“Detective Sharon, do you believe that Attorney Hughes and Mr. X did not know each other, as Attorney Hughes has clearly explained?” One reporter broke the silence immediately, and instead of Mr. X, the attention was now shifted back to Detective Sharon.In this way, for the people watching her via the news channel, on social media, and on YouTube, her face was clearly shown with multiple microphones thrust into her mouth as she said,“It does not matter what I think. What matters is if he can prove that he does not really know Mr. X in court because we have evidence, and believe me, this evidence was not fabricated. Everything we discovered about him—
“No! I cannot identify every member of this organization, but I can identify…"“Alright, this is the end of the question-and-answer conference for the press. We are heading to court right now. If you want to get more answers for the general public, please make your way to the court and cover the entire judgment,” Detective Sharon said suddenly. With this, the police officers behind Mr. Alexander, Attorney Hughes, and Mr. X immediately held them on the shoulders and made them walk forward.In this way, the reporters filmed how the criminals were bound in cuffs from their wrists to their ankles, creating a human chain of guilt, shackled in the echoes of their misdeeds.In a straight line, Mr. Alexander, Attorney Hughes, and Mr. X, tagged as criminals, were taken towards the ominous black van a little distance outside the police station. The exterior was tainted with the shadows of secrecy, rumbling down the desolate street. Its tinted windows guarded the interior like silent sentinels, b
As the judge instructed that the proceedings could proceed, Attorney Sarah Thompson began her statement immediately."Your Honor, esteemed members of the court, today we bring to light a dark conspiracy that thrived in the shadows. These three individuals, Mr. Alexander, Mr. X, and Attorney Hughes, were members of a clandestine organization that dealt in the unspeakable act of assassination," Attorney Thompson said, immediately shooting her eyes at Mr. Alexander. In this way, a smirk appeared on her face like a traffic light guiding cars on the road, conveying a message of doom to Mr. Alexander."Mr. Alexander, the orchestrator of this heinous plot, engaged the services of this organization to silence a man named Ethan Mark permanently. Ethan Mark is a person who has done nothing to him but cut him off from devouring his company completely."As she said this, she gestured towards a projector in the courthouse, and in return, the projector revealed a meeting between Mr. Alexander, Atto
“Objection noted. Attorney Thompson, you may state your response,” the judge said.“Your honor, the defense seems keen on casting doubt on the validity of the evidence. To address these concerns head-on, we present a witness who will shed light on the legitimacy of the video in question,” Attorney Thompson said, signaling towards the door, where a detective, well-dressed and composed, entered the courtroom.“Your honor, may I present Detective Rachel Williams, a seasoned investigator with expertise in digital forensics? She will testify to the authenticity of the video evidence and counter any claims of manipulation.”At this moment, the detective took her place on the witness stand, ready to provide her testimony.“The court acknowledges Detective Williams as an expert witness in digital forensics. You may proceed, Attorney Thompson.”“Objection, your honor! A detective cannot be a reliable witness in a case where technology, especially AI, is involved,” Attorney Reynolds said as he
As Dr. Millier said, the courtroom was filled with doubts regarding the integrity of the presented evidence. Murmurs arose from the people in the court as they turned to face one another, questioning silently."Could it be that the video evidence is fake and Attorney Hughes is truly innocent?""But if Attorney Hughes is innocent, what does that make Mr. Alexander? Does it mean he is innocent too?"While the murmuring continued, resembling the sounds of a thousand voices in a market square, the court bailiff shouted, "Court!" to restore decorum and order, as the murmurs escalated like the crescendo of a distant storm.Suddenly, Attorney Thompson's cellphone began to explode like a firework."Attorney Thompson, it is mandatory to silence your cellphone while at the bench. Are you disrespecting the court?" The judge frowned upon seeing Attorney Thompson's ringing phone."I apologize, Your Honor. I do not mean to disrespect the court, but this phone call is relevant to the subject matter
“Attorney Reynolds, proceed with what you have to say,” the judge said, but if indeed Attorney Reynolds had anything meaningful to say, it was lost in a string of surreal and entirely irrelevant phrases. “Your Honor, do you think this is true? I mean, this is a clear Quantum penguin engaging in disco jamboree, a clear violation of intergalactic jurisprudence!” The courtroom was caught in a moment of surreal confusion as Attorney Reynolds continued with his seemingly meaningful yet entirely irrelevant phrases. "Attorney Reynolds, I'm afraid I'm not well-versed in the legalities of quantum penguins and disco jamborees. Could you please bring your objection back to this earthly courtroom?" "My sincerest apologies, Your Honor. I seem to have experienced a temporal glitch in my legal lexicon. No objection; carry on." “Your Honor, I believe the defense attorney has suddenly experienced a glitch because he knows that something he has not imagined has happened, and of course, something ve
Stepping out of the courthouse as the court officers escorted them was like stepping out of a safe zone into a lion's den. In this way, the reporters who covered the entire event in the courthouse were waiting eagerly for the criminals to be brought out so they could film their faces again, like hawks poised to capture their prey. And if this was all, it was a lie, there were people who came out to the front of the courthouse, shouting at the top of their voices like campaigners in a rally against a bad government. “We want them jailed. every one of them.” “Criminals like them should not be allowed in society.” “Ethan Mark was lucky, but his daughter was not.” “We don’t know who their real target is. They can target anyone! Send them all to jail.” As the people continued to shout at the front of the court, displaying their handwritten words on cardboard or any other medium that aided writing, the reporters made sure to film everything. Thus, they scrambled to the testifiers in th
Pushing her back into her prison cell like a reluctant pawn being returned to its square on a chessboard, Isabella fell on the prison floor, resembling a fragile autumn leaf descending with a surrender to the inevitable embrace of the cold, hard ground. No matter how her voice had risen in anger towards her mother in the meeting room, she knew very well that she wanted to read the contents of the letter in the envelope and discover the help Ethan Mark had promised her. "Would he file for my release?" "Has he bought me a home as a sign of my forgiveness?" "Would he take me back as his wife?" Different questions rushed through her mind like a tumultuous river, each query cascading over the other. As she held the envelope in her hand, she sat at the corner of her cell and stared at it much more closely. In this way, she saw that the surface of the envelope bore a faint trace of handling, like a blank canvas marked only by the weight of the untold. She also observed the edges, crisp
As Isabella saw her mother through the glass panel, her eyes first peered at her face, which was fresh and glowing like a sun-kissing morning, radiating warmth and vitality. Similarly, she observed her hair, cascading strands of silk, flowing effortlessly, resembling a gentle waterfall gracing a serene landscape.But if that were all, it would be a lie. She also noticed her dress, which was as beautiful as a field of blooming flowers, each petal a vibrant hue, creating a tapestry of elegance. Likewise, her neck, ears, and wrists were adorned with jewelry, resembling constellations adorning the night sky, each piece a sparkling star in the galaxy of her elegance.Taking in this perfect image of her mother, the thought immediately struck Isabella that her mother's current appearance was the complete inverse of hers—a mess in a uniform and in a confined space, akin to a wildflower struggling to bloom in a cramped garden bed."Been a while," Victoria Sinclair said again, immediately as Is
Like a fish forced to live in the desert for the crime she had committed, Isabella's prison days wove a bleak tapestry of monotony and despair. The cold, unforgiving reality of prison life left her yearning for freedom, with each passing moment feeling like an eternity. The absence of familiar faces and the pervasive loneliness created a profound sense of desolation that permeated every aspect of her existence.Most especially, the daily beatings from her tormentor, Elara Whitewind, resembled an unrelenting storm, leaving Isabella's spirit battered and broken, akin to a shipwreck in the tempest of her despair. This was the reason she wished she had never set foot in the prison yard, mess hall, or communal bathroom ever again.However, whether she wished to visit those places or not, prison protocol had to be followed, leaving her no choice but to be present even in the devil's face if the protocol demanded it.In the dimly lit mess hall, clattering trays and hushed conversations fille
Ethan said nothing in response to Mr. Alexander's words. Instead, as if he hadn't heard him, he seized a seat on the other side of the table and crossed his left leg over his right.Yet, this did not mean he spoke at this moment. The only sound was the rhythmic tapping of his fingers on the table, as if he were playing an invisible piano.In this manner, Ethan Mark exuded authority. Gazing calmly from Mr. Alexander's feet to the tangled mess of hair atop his head, he looked at him. With a serenity akin to the gentle flow of the Nile and a voice as soft as a satisfied dove contemplating a defeated jungle lion, he suddenly spoke."Kneel and apologize."Upon hearing these words, Mr. Alexander's eyes widened in shock. He never anticipated a day when he would be asked to kneel and beg for mercy, especially from the person he had always regarded as a poor bastard.Like an enslaved cat in the presence of a lion, Mr. Alexander fell to his knees as Ethan Mark instructed, pleading, "I was a ter
Seeing how bold, tall, and dangerous this prisoner appeared and observing his audacious manner of poking at him was akin to witnessing a prowling lion, confident in its dominance, taunting its prey before the impending strike. Mr. Alexander then immediately turned his back, attempting to escape from this menacing part of the communal bathroom like a startled deer seeking refuge from the looming threat in the dark forest. "I have to run," he muttered in total fright, his voice a tremor in the echoing silence, like a desperate whisper carried away by the chilling wind of impending danger. However, if his intention was for success, it was a futile hope. "And where do you think you are running to, huh?" Another prisoner said this behind him and pushed him forward like a pawn on the unforgiving chessboard of the prison's power dynamics. As Mr. Alexander was pushed forward, he witnessed how the older prisoners immediately surrounded him. He also noticed how they revealed smirks on their c
After speaking for hours, the man who had conversed with him advised Mr. Alexander to get some sleep. He emphasized the importance of having alert eyes to observe any unfortunate events that might occur in the morning. And with that, Mr. Alexander retreated to the corner of his cell once again, burying his head in his ankle like a ship seeking refuge in the harbor of solitude, sheltering itself from the tempest of the prison's harsh reality. He sat on the ground, succumbing to a haunted sleep. *** The next morning revealed Mr. Alexander as a mere specter of resilience, marked by the weariness of a night spent in the clutches of haunted dreams, like a tattered flag fluttering weakly after enduring the relentless storm of a sleepless night. His eyes, burdened with unrest, betrayed the toll of his surroundings. Disheveled strands of hair clung to his forehead, bearing witness to the restless hours entangled in unsettling dreams. As he rose from the dark corner of his cell, his eyes fir
"Long story, man," the man answered. However, if this was all he said, it was a lie. He began to unravel his own narrative, detailing how his legs became amputated and one of his hands irreparably broken and dislocated."You see, I entered this prison as a healthy man. My crimes weren't that significant. I robbed a bank because I couldn't bear to watch my daughter suffer. We hadn't eaten for days, and robbing the bank seemed like my only option." He took a deep sigh and continued talking."Yes, you guessed right. The mission was unsuccessful, and before I knew it, I was completely surrounded by the police. I had no guns, only a knife and a dagger. I never headed to the vault but collected pieces from each person I encountered in the bank. I just wanted to be able to feed my daughter and move on with life the next day.""While being surrounded, there was nothing more I could do than raise my hands in the air and let the police apprehend me. God knows it was the biggest mistake I ever m
Arriving at the prison, Mr. Alexander saw how the prison walls were imposing, resembling a fortress of despair that stood as a testament to the shadows of society. Certainly, he shook his head in regret, as he had never been to a place this horrible before.He observed cold steel bars, like sentinels of incarceration, confining notorious men whose stories were etched in the graffiti of hardened souls. Similarly, he noticed how the air hung heavy with the weight of regret, whispers of past misdeeds echoing through the dimly lit corridors.The sounds of his handcuffs tucked in chains down to his ankle made obvious sounds as he was escorted through the corridor harboring the cells of different notorious men by two prison officers whose faces lacked smiles, as if they hadn't smiled for many notorious years. Hence, he saw individuals behind these cells harboring untold secrets with their unappealing faces and frightful behaviors.Upon witnessing him and the others being escorted to their r
“Detective Sharon, we would love to ask you a few questions if you do not mind. We are sure this would help the public understand more of what is going on,” one reporter said immediately. “Alright, please go ahead. If this would help the general public understand more of what is going on, “Thank you, Detective Sharon. Now that Mr. Alexander, Mr. X, and Attorney Hughes have been sentenced to lengthy prison terms, and Attorney Reynolds is awaiting the outcome of his investigation before he is sentenced, do you think that would be the end of this deadly organization?” “Yes, Mr. X. Mr. Alexander Rosewood and Attorney Hughes have been sentenced to prison for a very long term, and if care is not taken, for life imprisonment. However, this is not the end of the organization. As you might already know, the deadly organization is a large organization that has penetrated every sector, which could even include the police, the prison officers, the legal system, and many more, which could even i