Melodramatic Short Stories & Lawyer Face Slapping Novels

Sitting here in the courtroom, I watch as my father is put on trial for a crime he didn't commit. He gets a heart attack and dies right before my very eyes. There's nothing I can do to stop it. As my heart burns with anger and resentment, a series of comments suddenly appears, floating in the air in front of me. [Poor Mason! He still has no idea it was his own beloved girlfriend, Christa Lowry, who served as lead counsel and used falsified evidence to incriminate his father.] [Christa teamed up with that scion, Todd Harlow. She sacrificed Mason's dad's life to net her first pot of gold!] Through these comments, I learn the truth. I wipe my tears away, tear up the acceptance letter I just received from the top art school in the country, and throw myself into the legal profession. After 15 years, I've finally been crowned the Grim Reaper of the criminal defense world, having never lost a single case. One day, my assistant comes to my office with a pile of top-secret case files. Christa is facing the death penalty for engaging in international money laundering, and I'm the only one who can save her. In the surveillance footage from the detention center, the once arrogant woman is now kneeling on the floor, begging in despair to be saved. At that very moment, those comments start appearing in my vision again. [Spoiler alert! The most satisfying moment of revenge is about to come!] [That awful woman is so deluded. She thinks that just by offering enough money, Mason will be willing to save her for old times' sake! What a joke.] [Quick! Refuse her, Grim Reaper! Send her to hell!] Reading the comments, I smirk faintly before tossing my pen into the trash. "Tell her I won't take on the case."

My husband, Francis Zouche, thought we weren't well-off and could not afford to raise a child. So, he forcibly took me to the hospital to get an abortion. Right after the surgery, I discovered that he had transfered 200 thousand dollars to his first love, Heidi Colman, for her birthday. Out of pure rage, I got into a huge fight with him in the car, which led to an accident that killed us both. When I opened my eyes, we had returned to the day before our wedding. In our previous life, we were married for ten years. We weathered storms and supported each other, but Francis never wanted us to have a child of our own. On the day I died, I finally understood that the one he loved was Heidi. After getting a second shot at life, I decided to fulfill his wish. We canceled the wedding, blocked each other's phone numbers, and never contacted each other again. Eight years later, Francis became a top lawyer in Alvren and publicly proposed to Heidi at a law forum. Seeing that I was still single, he mocked me with a sneer, "Yvette, I know you loved me for two lifetimes. But I am getting married now. Don't keep waiting for me to come back to you." I glanced at him wordlessly and bent down to pick up my daughter before walking away. As a shocking realization hit him, his eyes reddened. He questioned furiously, "Didn't you promise to love me forever and to only give birth to my children?"

My father is seriously injured while working at a construction site, but because he never signed an employment contract, his employer refuses to compensate him. Desperate, I contact my fiancee, Sabrina Voss, a highly sought-after attorney, and beg her to take my father's case. She coldly tells me she's overwhelmed with other cases and doesn't have time, leaving me with no choice but to seek legal aid. But on the day of the hearing, I'm stunned to see Sabrina walk into the courtroom in a tailored suit, representing my father's employer. She expertly cites one law after another, mercilessly challenging every claim we make. While I spend every day worrying about my father's condition and the lawsuit, I come across a post on social media that stops me cold. Sabrina's junior associate, Rowan Mercer, is showing off a brand-new luxury watch with the caption, "Thanks to my favorite person for spending that 100-thousand-dollar legal fee on my gift. This case was definitely worth it." It turns out Sabrina took the money she earned defending my father's employer and used it to buy Rowan an expensive watch. Whatever I still feel for her dies in that moment. I take off my engagement ring, drop it into the trash, then like Rowan's post and leave a comment. "Glad you're happy."

My mother was beaten into the ICU, and I signed six critical-condition notices in one night. When I was at my lowest, my girlfriend disappeared without a trace. Only after my mother died did I stand in court as the plaintiff's attorney in her case. My girlfriend, gone for two months, appeared at the defense table. She was defending the man who killed my mother.

As a star divorce attorney, I agreed when my husband asked me to represent a younger schoolmate of his, Melanie Pattison, in her divorce and her fight for custody of her child. But in court, opposing counsel presented several photos and claimed Melanie had been unfaithful. When I saw the photos clearly, my heart lurched. The man Melanie had cheated with was none other than my husband, Benjamin Rossel. In the first photo, the two of them were nestled together, kissing on a beach. In the second, they had taken a child to an amusement park and were riding the carousel together. The photos were verified as genuine. My face went ashen, but Melanie didn't show the slightest hint of panic. She took out two paternity test results and faced her husband. "Benjamin is the child's biological father, not you. If we're getting divorced, you have no right to the child." My mind went blank with a roar. So in my eight-year marriage to Benjamin, I was the only one who'd been living as a devoted wife. He'd had a child with someone else long ago. But back when he'd sweet-talked me into marrying him, he had signed a prenup. If we divorced, he, Melanie, and their love child would be left with nothing but the clothes on their backs.