His Nanny Mate By Eve Above Story

Chapter 324 Objection

Ella

A sharp jolt of realization pulled me out of my sleep. The luminescent glow of dawn was already seeping through the window blinds. How long had we been asleep? Frantic, I scrambled upright, inadvertently knocking a few papers off the cluttered desk.

“Logan!” I shook his shoulder, urgency lacing my voice. “Wake up. We overslept!” His eyelids fluttered open, his usually sharp eyes clouded with confusion. “Ella? What time is it?”

My fingers flew to my wristwatch, and a gasp escaped my lips. “God, it’s nearly time for the court session! We have minutes, Logan, minutes!”

His eyes widened as he registered the severity of the situation. “Damn,” he cursed, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“Come on!” I urged, grabbing my files and purse, doing my best to appear somewhat professional. Looking at my reflection in a nearby window, I grimaced at the mascara smudged under my eyes and the crease lines imprinted on my cheek from the papers.

As Logan and I dashed through the halls of the firm, his tie hung loosely around his neck, and his shirt wasn’t entirely buttoned up. I struggled to adjust my blazer while balancing on my heels, my hand clutching a bundle of important case documents. There was no time for the elevator. We opted for the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Reaching the ground floor, we burst through the building’s main doors, the cool morning air hitting us. As we sped toward the courthouse just a few blocks away, Logan pulled off his tie, hastily re-tying it.

“You alright?” he panted, glancing my way.

“I’ve had better mornings,” I quipped, trying to find humor in our predicament. “We need to be on our A-game the moment we walk into that courtroom.”

We made it to the courthouse steps, barely catching our breath. As the grand doors came into view, I tried to mentally prepare myself. Every second counted, and making a good impression was vital.

we entered the courtroom, all eyes turned our way -and not in the flattering, commanding presence I’d hoped for. The judge’s gaze was especially

my mouth to apologize when Mr. Westbrook, shooting me a smug look with

Ignoring the snide remark, I began, “Your Honor, I sincerely apologize for

clearly unimpressed, but after a heavy pause, he nodded. “Very well. Proceedings will begin in five minutes, once you two have

cooker of tension, but if there was one man who reveled in it, it

doubt been marked by nods of respect from fellow attorneys and begrudging acknowledgment from others. His reputation

a point to catch my gaze as he passed by, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “Good morning, Miss Morrigan,”

chink in my armor. “The name is Morgan, Mr. Westbrook. I hope you remember it this

not always about being ready, is it? It’s about playing the game.”

a vivid picture for the jury-one of a city under siege, a place where men like Logan roamed the streets, and where families lived in fear. Every word was like a stroke of his brush, every pause calculated to let the

individuals who flout our laws to run rampant, or do we

evidence. With every exhibit he presented, Westbrook weaved a tale. He spoke of past incidents, of confrontations and aggressive outbursts. He used witness statements, expert testimonies, and even went as far as to

merely about a man and his past. It’s about the patterns we see, the consistent choices made. And patterns, as we all know, predict

narrative that was becoming harder and harder to counter, especially with the jury’s increasingly concerned expressions. He thrived in this arena, controlling the narrative, keeping everyone-including the judge-hanging

Logan’s questioning. He began with seemingly innocuous questions, designed

began in a honeyed voice. “Tell us about your childhood.

uncomfortably. “As normal as any,

“And your teenage

along. “Went to school, had a few close friends.