Lawyer Face Slapping Short Stories & Novels

A former classmate of mine, Zack Lindell, is unlawfully fired by his company and denied a severance package. With nowhere else to turn, he becomes so desperate that he threatens to take his own life. I represent him entirely free of charge and run myself ragged until I secure a 500,000-dollar settlement for him. Yet on the day he receives the money, he comes to me with a 50-dollar parking receipt. "William, I drove my car that day, so I'll let the gas money slide, but the parking was because you had business at the courthouse, so that should be your expense, right?" Beside him, his wife, Helena Lindell, adds sarcastically, "I hear you big-shot corporate lawyers make insane money. Tens of thousands, and even hundreds of thousands of dollars at a time. You're not seriously going to stick us with a 50-dollar parking bill, are you?" As I watch the couple count their money, I lose whatever goodwill I still have toward them. I turn down an acquisition worth millions of dollars to handle his case, only to end up owing Zack 50 dollars for parking. I toss a hundred-dollar bill onto the table and block them. A year later, Zack sinks his life savings into a residential development that is never completed. When he can't find anyone willing to help him recover his money, he corners me with tears in his eyes. "William! Please, you have to help me! That money was everything we had." I have my assistant hand him a retainer agreement. "I can help you, but my consultation fees run at 5,000 dollars per hour, and my contingency fee is 30% of the total asset value. Those are my terms. Not a penny less."

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.

Xenia Lewis, the nepotism junior, is eager to craft an image of herself as a prodigy. To prove her talent, she requests to take the lead in court. But when confronted by the plaintiff's attorney's sharp questioning, she falters. Our defense unravels, instantly putting us at a disadvantage. After the verdict is announced, Xenia tearfully throws herself into the arms of my fiance, Zayne Scott. Her voice trembles with excuses. "The plaintiff's attorney was too harsh. It was my first time in court, and I was just too nervous!" Due to her incompetence, the defendant, who could have been acquitted, ends up behind bars. Yet, Zayne and my junior colleague, Hugo Wilkinson, indulge her with comforting words. "Don't be upset. No one wins every case." "With your cleverness, Xenia, you'll surely hold your own next time." Furious, I snap, "The court is a place to seek truth and uphold justice. It's not a playground for make-believe. Because of your mistake, an innocent person has been wronged. How can you live with yourself?" Feeling humiliated, Xenia breaks down, sobbing and threatening to harm herself. Resentful that I've hurt her, Zayne and Hugo distort the truth, shifting all the blame onto me. I end up as the scapegoat for her mistakes. Not only am I forced to resign in disgrace, but I also face disbarment. With nowhere to turn, my spirit shatters. While crossing the street, distraught and distracted, I'm hit by a car and killed. Then, when I wake up, I find myself reborn on the very day Xenia and I are set to appear in court.

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."

"I know you're an ace divorce attorney. Please help me!" A young woman who's holding a child suddenly barges into the law firm and gets down on her knees in front of me. I'm about to help her up to her feet when a few live comments appear in front of my eyes. "This really is a doomed story. I can't believe the FMC has to go through all sorts of torment before dying." "Once she gets caught, both she and her child will be dead. The MMC can only spend the rest of his life in eternal remorse." "The FMC is pretty naive, isn't she? She thinks finding herself an attorney can help her secure a divorce. The MMC is the richest man in Opalford at the end of the day, so there's no way she can file for a divorce successfully." When I spot the next comment, its contents sting my eyes immediately. "Unfortunately, this attorney is a throwaway character too. Not only does she refuse to help FMC, but she also fails to recognize her as her older sister, who has gone missing for many years."

During interviews, Ashley Freeman always smiles when she says that I'm the man behind her success. She claims that it is only through my support that she has become queen of the courtroom. Now, I have just secured the final cross-border merger for her. Her firm will officially rank among the global elite the moment this contract is signed. I rush to the airport carrying the merger documents, preparing to board my private plane and fly out to Tedlar Street to seal the deal, but I am stopped at the boarding gate. "Ms. Freeman gave strict orders. She's taking Mr. Luke and Mr. Collins to Swakosland for a vacation today. No outsiders are allowed on board." "Outsiders". The word leaves me briefly speechless. Through the door of the VIP lounge, I spot Ashley sitting inside. She cradles a three-year-old boy in her arms, while Eddie Collins, her first love from college, sits right beside her. The boy snuggles in her chest, his tiny hands clutching the lapel of her coat. He looks so familiar and comfortable with her, as if he has been held this way from the day he was born. "Mommy! Daddy said the three of us will fly on a giant plane to see the snow!" Ashley doesn't correct him. Instead, she kisses his cheek with such gentleness that she feels like a stranger to me. "That's right, sweetie. Are you happy?" The three of them lean in close to one another, looking like the picture-perfect family. After staring at them for a long time, I let out a soft, low chuckle and dial a number on my phone. "Pull every authorization and funding agreement I've ever signed for Ashley in the last ten years." Since she believes she already has everything, I'll destroy everything I've spent the last decade building for her.

On Thanksgiving, my husband Steven Mandel showed up with another woman. Not just anyone—Fiona Osborne, his first love. She had Alzheimer's and only remembered him. And yeah, he said she was moving in. Steven's eyes were ice. "Erica, I stayed away from Fiona out of duty. But I'm not wasting what time I have left without her." Happy 50th anniversary to me. No gift—just a slap-in-the-face love confession. Maya, my daughter-in-law, tried to talk some sense into him, bless her. Then Anton—my own son—cut in. "Mom already kept Dad away from Fiona for years. She's tied ME to you for half my life. Now Dad just wants to take care of the woman he loves—what's so wrong with that?" Steven stepped in front of Fiona like some kind of hero. "Anton's right. Erica, I let you play the wife role for decades. Now, I want to be with the woman I truly love. "If you can't handle that, let's just get a divorce." I stood there, frozen. I'd walked away from a powerhouse law career for this family after we had Anton. I thought I had given everything, and in their eyes, I would be a perfect wife and a perfect mother. But today made it clear—I was never enough. No matter how much I gave, it was never going to be enough. I turned to Maya. She was crying. "You wanna get divorced together?"

On the morning of my wedding, I found a saved voice message on Elliot Mercer's phone. It was only four seconds long, barely long enough to matter, yet the girl's voice filled the bridal suite as if she had stepped into the room herself. "I miss you, Elliot. I know I shouldn't." The makeup artist had just finished pinning the last pearl into my hair. My dress was zipped, my veil was hanging over the back of a chair, and downstairs, two hundred guests were waiting for me to marry the man I had loved for seven years. Elliot stood behind me in the mirror, already dressed in his black tuxedo. "She was drunk," he said. "It happened after the firm retreat. Someone dared her to send it." I checked their messages with shaking hands. Case notes. Coffee orders. Court schedules. Her apologies whenever she needed him again. His replies, patient and calm, as if being needed by her had become part of his day. There was nothing explicit. That almost made it worse. I couldn't point to one sentence and call it betrayal. I could only feel the space she had taken from me, quietly and steadily, while I was busy trusting him. My tears fell onto the lace of my dress. "Block her," I said. "Block Tessa now, and I'll still walk down that aisle." Elliot looked at me for a long moment. Then he took the phone from my hand. "After the ceremony, I'll have her moved off my cases," he said. "You have my word." Seven years together, and I still wanted his word to mean something. Then his phone rang. He looked down, and I saw Tessa's name before he turned the screen away. A second later, her text appeared. I'm outside. I can't breathe. Please don't make me do this alone. Elliot's face changed. I caught his wrist before he could reach the door. "If you leave this room," I said, my voice trembling, "don't come back expecting me to marry you." For one second, he looked like the choice hurt him. Then he peeled my fingers from his sleeve, one by one, and walked out of the bridal suite.

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.

My father-in-law, Luther Smith, got into a car accident and was sent to the emergency room. I called my wife, Meg Smith, who was a lawyer, more than twenty times before she picked up. “What are you doing now? Hugh ran into trouble, and I’m helping him. Please don’t be a nuisance.” I suppressed my feelings and said, "Dad got into a car accident, and he needs a hundred thousand dollars for surgery." However, she believed Hugh’s words instead. She said viciously, “It’s your father who got into the accident. What does it have to do with me? Don’t covet my money for your family. Stop harassing me. I’m busy.” She then quickly ended the call. They did not manage to save Luther, and he died. Three days later, in court, I saw Meg defending Hugh as his defense lawyer for his drunk driving case. She was extremely good at her job, so she managed to win the court case for Hugh due to insufficient evidence. Hugh was acquitted. I was extremely disappointed. After the court session, I asked for a divorce. She started to panic. “My dad is so kind to you. He’ll be very upset if you divorce me!” I sneered and threw the hospital receipt and death certificate at her face. What an idiot. She did not know that she no longer had a father.

Not only am I the youngest son of the Townsend family, which runs a multibillion-dollar business empire, but I'm also infamously known as the dimwit in our social circle. Since childhood, I've always been slow and unresponsive, barely able to talk. Meanwhile, every one of my siblings is a certified genius. Evelyn Townsend, my oldest sister, makes a name for herself in the financial world at just 18 years old. Julian Townsend, my older brother and the second child of the family, earns two doctorate degrees by the age of 20. My parents have had a hard time believing I'm really a Townsend. They've had me undergo 18 DNA tests, consulting every renowned doctor and specialist they could find. Nevertheless, after spending over a decade exhausting all their options, the family has finally accepted the situation. The truth is, I'm perfectly capable of talking. I just don't feel like doing it. In my previous life, I was a star lawyer who had never lost a case. I'd spoken more than my fair share of words in that lifetime. In this one, all I want is to live a quiet, peaceful life without ever having to talk. Then this happens. Someone launches a short-selling attack on Townsend Corporation, and my family's company is on the verge of bankruptcy. Our business rival shows up with an acquisition contract. Dad's face turns ashen, and Evelyn goes through every clause without finding a single loophole. Even Gina Whitman, the company's chief legal counsel who has worked with us for a decade now, has already been bought off. She stands in front of us with a look of righteous conviction and declares, "You should sign the contract, Mr. Townsend. This is the only way to save the Townsend family. I've reviewed the terms. There's nothing wrong with them." Dad sighs heavily before reaching for the pen with a trembling hand. Annoyed, I decide to drop the act. My entire family watches in shock as I step forward and flip to the third page of the contract. "Why do I see conflicting provisions between the main terms of the agreement and the supplementary clauses? If my father signs this, the Townsend family will not only walk away with nothing but will even be saddled with a ten-billion-dollar debt." I flash Gina a smile that doesn't reach my eyes. "You drive a hell of a bargain, Ms. Whitman. Should we thank you for this incredible deal you've dropped in our lap?"

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?"

The day my parents skipped town with my younger sister, Tiana Miller, they used me as collateral to pay off their debts. "The kid's got a screw loose," my mother told the debt collectors, gesturing dismissively toward me. "Always hugging books and mumbling nonsense like an idiot. Take her if you want her. If not, sell her for all I care." Tiana's bright, cheerful laughter drifted up from the stairwell. "Mom, isn't Sylvia coming with us?" "Be a good girl. We're leaving her behind." I had heard those words a million times. Ever since Tiana was born, everyone in our house revolved around her. When I ran over just to take a look at the baby, my mother shoved me away. "Don't touch your sister. Your hands are filthy." From that moment on, I was the extra piece nobody wanted. When the loan shark kicked my front door open, he found me huddled in the corner reading a massive textbook on criminal law. "Kid, your parents bolted," the boss sneered, looking down at me. "How do you plan to pay off their debt?" I calmly closed the book. "Mister, I analyzed the voice recordings of your strong-arm collection tactics. “Twelve parts of them can easily be argued down to civil disputes. If you follow my strategy, you can avoid prison time entirely." He froze. In less than an hour, I broke down their past three years of criminal records piece by piece and drafted legal loopholes for them. The heavily tattooed kingpin assistant, Hanks Phil, stared at the paperwork, his jaw dropping before he let out a sharp curse. "I've been in the underworld for twenty-six damn years, and today's the first time I'm learning you can actually collect debts legally.”

I was the firm’s star. The one they called for the impossible cases. My latest miracle? The “Titan Project” patent case. I made the firm a billion dollars. My cut was supposed to be a two-million-dollar bonus. But today, a fresh-faced intern waltzed off with it. I thought payroll had made a mistake and stormed straight into the senior partner's office. “Preston. My two-million-dollar bonus. Tell me there’s been a mistake.” Preston didn’t even bother to look up. “Victoria, I’ve looked into it. We won this case because of Chloe’s client management.” “She was schmoozing clients. Late-night golf games. Weekend yacht parties. While you were what, exactly?” “You never showed your face outside the courtroom. Teamwork is everything.” I almost laughed. It was absurd. “She’s a rookie who can’t even recite the rules of discovery.” “Enough!” Preston cut me off. “The firm doesn’t make mistakes. I see what everyone contributes.” “If you're not happy, you can prove your worth somewhere else.” He tossed a severance agreement on the desk. My heart went cold. I signed it on the spot. Before I left, I got the last word. “Preston, next time the firm has a real fight on its hands, you’d better call your social butterfly, Chloe. Don’t bother me.” He blew a perfect smoke ring, smirking right through it. Unfazed. Soon later, my phone blew up. It was him. Begging me to come back and save his ass.