An Innocent Client Novels & Stories

“Yes, they were found on the weapon, but my client claims that he was at his college, and can even prove it.” “Oh no, don't use that, they'll erase it before I can get my hands on it.” I muttered, and he heard me immediately. “Your Honor, my client is not a flight risk as he has neither father nor mother, and has every tie to New York city.” Peter said. “This case would prove that there's a greater sinister plan here, and an harmless human is being blamed for the things that have, or have not happened.” Peter stepped back toward the General. “My client didn’t run. He didn’t hide. He’s still here, right now. A guilty man would’ve tried to disappear. He didn’t. Because he’s innocent.”

(Jenna POV) Do you know what’s worse than having a guilty client? Having an innocent one. And what’s even worse than that? Having an innocent client that won’t let you prove his innocence. The entire Alex McMahon situation was an f&&king disaster. So much so, that it should have been the only thing on my mind. But of course, it wasn’t. After I got over the initial shock …and got over some of my embarrassment for being called out by Mr. McMahon… I spent hours, days, and weeks going through everything all over again. I studied documents; I re-read transcripts; I looked through published cases with similar issues.

All the girls took their part except Clara, she was still silent in the corner of the room. “You, lil kitty! Eat! They don't like seeing skinny kittens!” The man said before laughing evilly and leaving the place, there was the sound of the door being locked from outside and Clara just looked down and cried. “Your crying won't get us out of here, it's been a week since you've been here,” A woman said, Judy, she's been there a month. She was desperate for her life, every week there would always be a betting event, where many VVIPs would come to place their bets.

she watched as her friend's lips momentarily twitched up in a scowl before her glare came over her face once again. “First of all Oriana, my clients are not sickos. They're just people who need someone to talk and open up to. Someone to guide them through the path of rectification and that's far from being sickos. So please refrain from calling them that,” she chastised harshly. That topic had stabbed a tree branch at her slumbering past.

Her presence was calm but commanding and as she approached the jury box, it seemed as though she exuded elegance. “Your Honor, members of the jury,” She began, “we’ve heard a lot of hearsays and accusations from the prosecution. Let’s separate fact from fiction, shall we?” She walked to the defense table and placed her hand on the shoulder of Ethan, “My client is an innocent man, he has no prior criminal record, no history of violence and is a man who has simply been scorned in a relationship. His fiancée left him for another man and restricted him from seeing her. A man who was strongly in love, you can’t believe that this was not a misunderstanding…”

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

I watched the defendant, tried to see if there was guilt there, remorse, anything that would tell me whether Xavier had just freed an innocent man or a rapist. But his face was blank, relieved but carefully controlled. He looked at Annabelle and smiled, a smile that was full of love. She smiled back, mouthing the words "I'm sorry." What just happened? Xavier had said his client was innocent. A victim of circumstances. But the evidence had seemed so clear. Everything had pointed to this man's guilt. Yet here he was, walking free. I wanted to ignore the uneasy feeling in my gut. Xavier knew what he was doing. He'd been doing this longer than I'd been alive, probably. If he said his client was

“They all say that.” Another officer leaned on the desk, arms folded, chewing on a toothpick. “No criminal’s ever guilty, sweetheart. Everyone’s innocent, until the evidence says otherwise.” “I’m not a criminal!” My voice cracked. “I’m the victim! I was running from someone! Do you even hear me?” They ignored me. The first one chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s the pretty ones like you that make this job hard. If we hadn’t caught you red-handed, you’d have lied your way right out of it with that obvious pretty-girl privilege.”

Charisma did. Ethan’s voice was velvet over steel. “My client isn’t a criminal. He’s a man who made hard decisions in impossible circumstances. If there’s blame to be found, it belongs with the regulatory bodies that failed to act—not with the man who kept this city running through crisis.” He paused. Let silence sharpen the air. “Ladies and gentlemen, this trial isn’t about guilt. It’s about scapegoating.” He let that hang. And they nodded. Not just listening—believing.

“The will being used to declare my clients guilty was drafted only a month ago.” He lifts a document slightly, the paper catching the light. “Both of my clients were completely unaware of its existence. They only learned about it after the case was filed against them.” “Please come to the point, Mr Watson,” the judge says. One finger rests against the rim of his glasses as his sharp gaze locks onto Watson. Watson nods once. “My first client, Miss Jennifer Smith, was never involved in her family’s business.” He turns a fraction, addressing the room. “The shareholder was her fiance, Mr Adrian Hale.”