Chapter 325 Piece De Résistance

Ella

“Objection, Your Honor!”

The courtroom was thick with tension, so palpable that it felt like a heavy blanket draped over everyone present. The high ceilings held shadows of statues from times long past, the weight of justice and history pushing down. The golden chandeliers that hung from the ceilings almost seemed to be swaying slightly, their dull glow illuminating the wooden panels which lined the room, giving it an age-old grandeur.

Mr. Westbrook, seasoned and reputed for his shark-like tactics in the courtroom, seemed momentarily caught off guard by my objection.

He blinked, his gray eyebrows knitting together as he processed the implications of what was unfolding. As his gaze locked onto mine, I could see a storm swirling in those deep-set blue eyes.

“Sustained,” the judge replied, shooting me a curt nod. I sat back down, feeling somewhat proud of myself. Across from me, in the witness stand, Logan gave me a grateful look.

But we weren’t out of the water yet; Westbrook wasn’t used to not getting his way. Other lawyers were typically so terrified of him that they practically rolled over for him in court, but not me. If I learned anything from my parents, it was that just ‘lying down and taking it’ wasn’t in the Morgan blood.

“Your Honor!” he protested, voice filled with indignation. “This is nothing but theatrics. Miss Morgan is trying to mislead this court with unfounded allegations.”

Judge Milton, a stern-looking man with sharp features that matched his even sharper mind, raised a hand, signaling Westbrook to stop. “Don’t be ridiculous, Westbrook,” he growled. “It’s a simple objection to what was, quite frankly, an absurd question. Continue.”

Shooting me an angry glare over his shoulder, Westbrook huffed and continued. I watched as he slowly turned back to Logan, shuffling through his papers as he did so. I had caught him off guard, that was for sure. He didn’t expect the female rookie lawyer to give him a run for his money in court, but it would take more than that to take him down.

“Very well then,” Westbrook said, clearing his throat. “Now. Mr. Barrett… Is it true that your family has a history of violence and aggression? Is it possible that this is a problem that runs in your genes, and it is not something you can escape?”

Holding back my smirk, I stood again.

“Objection, Your Honor!”

“Sustained.”

or have you ever, involved yourself in cold-blooded crime,

“Objection, Your Honor!”

“Sustained,” the judge nodded.

whipped around on me. “Miss Morgan, are you going to let me establish my case, or do

“That’s enough. Miss Morgan, please step up to

Westbrook growled.

“I’d like to hear the rookie lawyer out,” he said, curiosity evident

I could almost feel the whispers of all

isn’t just a case against my client, but against the very essence of

sure it caught the light just right,

us during discovery. Just yesterday, I had to go

already trying to interrupt. “This is absurd! I’ve never seen that in my life. Who

Westbrook.” Judge Milton’s voice was calm but held an edge. “You will get your chance

my peripheral vision. He was clearly not expecting such backlash for his actions, but I still had more to

Judge Milton said

I opened a folder, spreading out the receipts, “detailed records of every weapon he ever purchased, and not once has he bought bullets of this kind. In fact, these particular bullets would not

piqued. Westbrook looked

Honor, esteemed members of the jury, I have proof that a police officer was bribed to hide this evidence. And I have proof that it was Mr.

coursed through the room. The whispers grew louder. Even the stern-faced bailiff seemed taken

out, now laced with anxiety. “Where’s your proof, Miss

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