Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 22937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
I don't lose sleep.
And I certainly don't lose my mind over women.
Why would I?
For the past twelve years, I've built a reputation as the attorney people hire when they want to win. I don't believe in distractions, complications, or anything remotely resembling a relationship.
My life works exactly the way I want it to.
Until her.
This woman was supposed to be a stranger.
A drunk college girl who stumbled into my Porsche and assumed I was her Uber driver...
Yet somehow, I keep running into her.
Every other day...
Then I find out she's been working at my firm.
I should've fired her immediately—for constantly tempting me with her cherry red lips—but I didn't.
I let her stay on for my next trial, let her keep challenging me until, for the first time in my career, I'm not sure winning is worth it.
And that's a problem.
Because some cases have consequences long after the verdict is read...
Final Verdict is Book 1 in a brand new legal romance series
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
PLAYLIST
Hate That I Made You Love Me by Ariana Grande
Ur Heartbeat by Jessie Reyes
Tread Carefully by SZA
Shabang by Drake
I Don’t Wanna by Aaliyah
Shut It Down by Drake
Often by The Weeknd
Needy by Ariana Grande
OPENING STATEMENT (N.):
THE EXPLANATION BY THE ATTORNEYS FOR BOTH SIDES AT THE BEGINNING OF THE TRIAL OF WHAT WILL BE PROVED DURING THE TRIAL.
JAMESON
Every lawyer is a liar disguised in a smile and a threatening three-piece suit—a human snake that’s willing to swallow the worst client’s case for the right price.
What’s left of their tortured hearts is tucked deep in their pockets, all because the pain of living from verdict to verdict is far too much to keep in their chests.
Contrary to what we’re taught in law school, the courtroom is not a place to fight for justice; it’s a stage where the jury is the ultimate audience, and the best actor wins.
Unfortunately, I have yet to receive all the awards and accolades I deserve, but my undefeated record speaks for itself.
It’s only during moments like today, for cases like this, that I wonder if my A-list acting can overcome how much the jury despises my definitely guilty client…
“Spit out the gum,” I say to her. “And don’t roll your eyes when the judge reads the verdict.”
“It’s not gum.” She sticks out a tongue full of crushed red candy. “These are cherry Pop Rocks.”
“Spit them out. Now.”
“Okay.” She winks and bends down under our table, staring into my eyes as she drools into the trash can. Just like she drooled over an undercover police officer’s cock in exchange for drugs—the very incident that brought us here.
“There.” She licks her lips as she sits up. “Happy, Mr. Tate?”
I hope he locks your ass up for life.
“All rise for the jury!” the bailiff announces.
I stand to my feet and watch their faces, trying to see which way they voted, but their faces are stoic as stone.
“Has the jury reached a verdict?” the judge asks.
“Yes, Your Honor, we have,” the foreperson says.
The judge motions for the bailiff to retrieve the form, and out of the corner of my eye I catch one of the jurors—a brunette woman in the back—shaking her head at my client.
Dammit.
“On the first count of solicitation of prostitution,” the judge reads, “this jury finds the defendant, Clarissa Ridgeland, not guilty.”
Miss Ridgeland squeezes my hand.
“On the second count of unlawful possession of a controlled substance—the jury finds this defendant not guilty.”
Stunned, I slowly nod as he rattles off his appreciation for everyone. Then—as usual—I wait for someone to finally walk through the side doors to hand me an Oscar.
It never comes.
“Court is adjourned.” The judge bangs his gavel, and my client doesn’t even say thank you. She rushes out of the room at the speed of light.
You’re welcome…
Sighing, I slide my notes into a briefcase and slam it shut.
As I’m turning around to leave, I find myself staring right into the glaring eyes of the state prosecutor.
“Well, hello, Julia,” I say. “Tough loss for you today. No hard feelings.”
“Feelings?” She scoffs. “I’m shocked you even know what those are, Jameson.”
“Me too.” I smile. “I’ve read about them a lot, though.”
“Okay, seriously.” She shakes her head. “How the hell do you sleep at night?”
“I turn off the lights and occasionally put on some rain sounds. Would you like a link to my playlist?”
“I would like you to get fucked.”
“I don’t need any help in that department.”
“I mean, get ‘fucked over’—as in ruined.” She glares at me. “Your client was guilty as sin, and everyone in this courtroom knew it.”
“Everyone except the jury, apparently…”
“They gave the wrong verdict this time.” She stabs a finger against my chest, enunciating every syllable. “Protecting the guilty will come back to haunt you when you least expect it, Jameson. Trust me.”
“I wouldn’t trust you to help me walk across the street.”
“Sooner or later, the devil will come to address the debt you owe him.”
“Do you know if he’ll be paying via cash or check?”
Her face reddens and she lets out an unsteady breath. Then, as if she knows she’ll never—ever—win a war of words with me, her lips curve into an uneven smile.
“Until we meet again, Mr. Jameson,” she says.
Until you lose again, you mean.
I hold back my thoughts and push open the gate for her.
“Have a good night, Miss Bantam.”
She stomps past the pews and out of my sight.
I take one last look around at the empty courtroom, waiting to feel a morsel of regret for tampering with Lady Justice’s scales for a win today, but nothing comes.
The system fucking owes me…
Swinging my briefcase over the gate, I walk past the pews and step into the hallway.
“That prosecutor lady is right, you know?” Clarissa Ridgeland suddenly stands up from a bench. “I heard everything she said to you.”
“I was hoping you’d disappeared somewhere I’d never have to see you again,” I say. “Please go enjoy your freedom.”