You know that feeling life throws at you, the feeling that makes you feel like shit even though you hadn't done anything wrong. Hit you right in the face. Wrapped around you like a deceptive warm blanket. Took away your senses, focus, smile, and happiness, leaving you with nothing but thoughts of every shitty thing you'd done in the past.
I knew the feeling too. The shitty feeling had just hit me right in the face. I had just won my 30th case at 25. Say hello to the youngest lawyer in the USA. Apparently, I had never lost a case before, this included. Not to brag, but I was quite a famous chick. Nah. I'll brag. At 25, I had put 39 people behind bars, won all my cases, and earned everyone's respect. Oh, and I had built my family's empire together with my parents. But, no matter how much I made or how many cases I was able to win, no matter how much I'd accomplished, there was always this voice at the back of my head telling me there was one thing I would never be able to do. Which was, I would never be able to find him. Every time I won a case, I remembered he wasn't there to celebrate with me. He wasn't there to tell me how proud he was. No calls or texts from him anymore.
For 7 years, I had searched legally and illegally just for him. I had used my power, money, and everything I had to look for him. It had all been futile. He had left without a single trail. And I was honestly not surprised. He was HIM. If he had left a trail, I'd have been surprised. Rhea Patel was capable of doing everything except one. Lovely, right.
I was standing in the courtroom soaked in champagne, thanks to my best friend. We've been friends for 20 years. Her dad and my dad started as business partners. Next, they became friends and decided to introduce their families. Their youngest daughters decided to remain best friends even after their fathers stopped being friends. Long story short we're still best friends and i love her and she is mine. Back off and find your own best friend. The end.
The judges of today's already closed case that i just won, joined the fun. Maybe because they had respect for me or maybe because my uncle was one of the judges. Who knows. My sister came, my brother, my mum, my dad, my grandparents and people whose names i couldn't remember. Everyone came to congratulate and celebrate me except him.
"God these heels are killing me" I was about to sit down when my best friend decided it would be the perfect time to drag me to the front of the huge courtroom to give a speech. "I'll kill her later". I thought.
A speech?! I have never been good at speeches. It's either i would end up saying something entirely different or something dark. It's a gift.
"Uhh, thank you everyone for coming. I appreciate you coming to celebrate my 30th win even though i have won a million things that most of you haven't". As expected. I raised up my glass and said, "here's to me for never losing a case and to you guys because your crimes have not been revealed to me yet". What was wrong with me? I was the first person to gulp down my champagne without any worry because i knew my best friend would fix it. She always does. I was already walking away when I heard…
"Did you guys hear that? She called us smart and agile for being able to hide our crimes well. I'm honored". See. Told you so.
I loved my best friend. Sometimes i would call her my lost twin. Malena Ermias is the perfect friend. Argue with your dad. She is apparently, Asian-African. Where she's Chinese, I'm Indian, Chinese and American. My dad's Indian, mum's Chinese-American. Her dad's African but grew up in America, her mum's Chinese. Makes her more perfect.
Papa walked towards me to bless me. One of those cute Indian things he loved doing. "Bless you dear" i bent to touch his feet and sought his blessings. It wasn't something i did often though. "Another case cleared. Congratulations princess"
"Thank you papa" i smiled at him and my smile grew wider when he brought out a new pair of SpongeBob crocs. I took off my heels and tossed them to only God knows where. Meh… I'll get another pair never. I had lots of 'em at home. What I needed was chocolate and vanilla ice cream with snickers. And kfc too.
Changing into the crocs made me feel better yes but still didn't help the feeling of wanting to disappear from the court room. So, instead of zooming off in my bmw, I settled on just sitting outside the court room. The noise, the people, the celebration, it was all too much for me. I had a bottle of apple juice in my hand and I contemplated on whether I should throw the bottle on someone's car or just drink from it like a good lawyer. I settled on the later.
I watched my bestie come out wide grin on her face two minutes later. "Why are you smiling so much, did Judge Anna fall on her boobs?"
"Nah. That'd be peak comedy though" Malena replied after sitting comfortably beside me.
"I'm just happy I have a skilled, amazing bestie who knows how to reveal people's bad deeds except mine" She shoved a bottle of Tequila in my face. I didn't do Tequila. Tasted weird. "No" I pushed it away from my face. It was already starting to irritate my nose. "The hell is your problem. A sip won't kill you, come on man" she tried to force me to drink from the bottle which didn't work out for her. "Okay fine."
"So what are you doing out here. A party is being thrown for you. You have proved once again that you'll always win. Emphasis on always". She wasn't not wrong. Every case I had been given, i had won them all. Murder cases, rape cases, robbery cases, and a lot more. I won them all. This case was no different. A grown ass man… no, a dog, raped a random lady in an alley and tried to kill her so she wouldn't spill the beans to anyone. I despised humans that think they have right to shut people up. Bastard and a warthog. That was what that rapist was.
The bastard even tried killing me in court after the judge pronounced him guilty. So he got charged with two attempted murder, slander and rape. Maybe i provoked him to worsen his sentence, you honestly can't blame me.
"Hey, you're spacing out on me again. Is something wrong" she was looking at me with those worried eyes. 'Yes. Yes everything is wrong. He isn't here with so fuck yes. Every damn thing is wrong' i yelled inwardly instead of yelling at Malena. Malena was like my small mum.
"No mummy, I'm fine. I just need to sleep". I wasn't like everyone else that would say i hate lying to my best friend. I was fine with lying to her especially if that lie was well crafted and would take away her worries. She deserved happiness and a worried free life. I promised her this twenty years ago and i always keep my promises.
"Are you thinking about him again" she furrowed her brows which means she was probably angry or irritated. Couldn't be the latter so she was angry.
"Thinking about who?" I replied pretending i didn't know who she was talking about.
"Kaden. I'm talking about Kaden. Your high school runaway lover". She said without batting an eyelid.
"Bro we didn't even go to the same high school. And the fuck do you mean by lover" for some reason I let out a little laugh.
"Good. You aren't thinking about that bafoon. And you shouldn't or I'll tell papa to help me migrate to North Korea." So, Malena didn't like him because he left without a single trace. She despised him because he wasn't dead. Instead he was out there with another lady. I was mad at him, not because he disappeared without a trace, but because he disappeared without saying goodbye, because he never told me about high school, he never told me about the girls. He left these secrets for me to out about on my own. Kaden Harrison. He was the thorn that pricked my soul and I was the rose that bloomed in his shadow
Fifteen minutes later, I was cruising to my villa in my BMW, effortlessly navigating through the city streets, free from any traffic. My villa was nestled in a serene neighborhood, surrounded by a few houses owned by elderly folks enjoying the twilight of their years, and others who led peaceful, simple lives. My villa exuded an aura of power and opulence, creating a sense of awe that kept unwelcome visitors at bay. Yet, the residents of this area held me in high regard; they admired and respected me.
In an alley not far from my neighborhood, a bleeding man was surrounded by three individuals in black suits. Two of them had beards and mustaches, while the third one appeared younger. All three were armed. Thanks to the darkness, they couldn't see my black car, and I remained hidden in a corner. I watched as they used the handle of a gun to strike the side of his head, causing him to hit the wall. Blood flowed more freely from his wounds with each impact. The youngest assailant shoved a gun into the bleeding man's mouth, while one of the bearded men spoke with disgust. They were likely saying something like, "This is just a taste of what we have to offer. Either spill the beans or die."
What was strange wasn't that I was watching without intervening; it was the tears streaming down my face, my white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, and my silent sobbing. I didn't know this bleeding man; his appearance was unfamiliar. Yet, after enduring their threats, he lifted his head and managed to flip them off with a smirk. A smirk? Was he foolishly suicidal? I watched as the three murderers fled. Yes, they were murderers now. Suddenly, I heard a siren. The cops? No, no, no. For some reason, I didn't want the cops to find the bleeding man. I had a feeling that if they did, things would go downhill fast. My instincts were confirmed when I saw the man trying to stand, likely to escape. Without thinking, I started the engine and drove my car to the entrance of the alley, blocking it from view. At least this way, the cops wouldn't see him. The bleeding man had already collapsed and was lying on the ground. As expected, the cops pulled up beside my car. The officer in the passenger seat asked, "Lawyer Patel, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be celebrating with your family?"
I lied smoothly, without batting an eyelid, "I'm here to gather some evidence for a case." They tried to persuade me to let them guard me while I collected all the 'evidence' I needed. I coldly refused, and they moved to leave. Now, the bleeding man. I was taking him to my villa. He was much taller and larger than me, but thankfully, I managed to stuff him into the backseat. I hopped into the driver's seat and took a hidden shortcut home to avoid any checkpoints. On the way, I called my uncle, who was also the family doctor.
Located at the heart of an enclave, my villa stood majestic, with a private road that stretched for four minutes before you reached the entrance. It was reminiscent of those grand mansions you see in classic Italian films.
As I arrived at the grand gates of my villa, I looked at their high-class design. The gates could only be opened from the inside with a password, and from the outside, they required voice, eye, and fingerprint recognition. Before the guards could react, I unlocked the gate myself. I had three skilled main house guards, with others working under them.
My two personal guards oversaw all the others, including my parents' guards, despite their youth. Compared to some of the other guards in the Patel family, my personal guards headed security, earning everyone's respect, including mine.
I held all my workers in high regard, especially the guards. My villa, as always, looked stunning. The gates opened, and I drove my BMW M8 to my garage, where I kept my seven cars: three BMWs, a Pagani, a Bugatti, a Lamborghini, and a GTR. I was soon adding another Pagani and BMW to my collection. Additionally, I owned a BMW bike, a Kawasaki, and a Yamaha. Yes, I had a passion for cars and bikes.
My villa was a multi-story building with large balconies that hinted at the spacious interiors and offered plenty of outdoor space to enjoy the view. It featured a sleek, modern design with clean lines, tinted glass, and metal, giving it a sophisticated look. The strategically placed lighting highlighted the exterior and landscaping, making my villa stand out beautifully at night. Overall, my villa exuded luxury and modern elegance, making it an impressive property for those who appreciated contemporary design and high-end living.
As soon as I stepped out of the car, my personal guards rushed to me, immediately sensing that something was wrong. "Bring him inside. Uncle Tyson will be here soon," I instructed. Without wasting a moment, they moved to carry the bleeding man inside.