Novel & Cerita The Lawyer Marni Mann

My lawyer only had to nudge, and already they’re questioning every word. I could almost laugh. Months of the Bureau’s work, Sophia Chen’s fevered little exposé, Marcus’s obsessive loyalty to woman he’s known less than half a year, all of it hanging on the word of this sad, twitching man. And Marcus knows it. I feel him before I see him. He’s in the second row behind the prosecutors, too disciplined to fidget, but his fury hums through the air like static. When Marrin falters, Marcus’s jaw tightens. When the lawyer twists the knife, Marcus’s fists curl against his thighs.

Dante said. "I'll give you my lawyer's contact," Elian said immediately. "She's extraordinary. She's handled three cases with international jurisdictional complexity and she does not find complicated situations either surprising or exciting, which is the specific quality you want in a lawyer." "She sounds like Marta," Dante said. "She and Marta have spoken," Elian said. "Professionally, once, on my behalf. They respected each other enormously and immediately." He paused. "Her name is Annika. I'll connect you."

Lilianna didn’t bother looking up at first, her focus trained on her manicured nails, painted the same shade of red as her lipstick. Her lawyer, Frank Arnoult, sat beside her. He didn’t even glance at us, casually flipping through papers in his leather folder. Arnoult was another Marston. The Costellos wouldn’t settle for anything less than a legal dream team, and Arnoult was as ruthless as they came. I dropped the case file on the table, the sound echoing in the small room. Lilianna finally looked up, her lips curving into a slight smile. It wasn’t friendly. It was filled with rage. By now, the whole family knew about me.

“Name’s Valerie Quinn. Age twenty-eight. A lawyer—badass one, too. Recently won a high-profile case. Sent the ex-president’s son to jail for fraud and assault. Got the guy twenty years behind bars. She’s making headlines in the legal world.” I opened the folder, scanning the pages. A photo of her stared back at me—professional, serious, hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, eyes sharp. It was a stark contrast to the woman I’d raced earlier today, her hair loose, her eyes blazing with challenge, her lips curving with confidence.

They should be hiding their faces in shame for doing something so terrible to a girl that they were supposed to protect. I leaned against the wall, my hands folded and my knees propped up while I waited for my lawyer to come over. Two hours had passed already yet I was yet to receive as little as a phone call from him. Speaking of the devil, my gaze swivelled to Manny who stood in front of the bars, a dirty victorious grin splayed on his lips. I wanted nothing more but to clean it off his lips with a punch but these fucking bars… “You thought you'd won the fight, huh?” He smirked.

I didn’t sleep. Not because Raffaele Moretti was sitting in my living room, legs stretched out like he owned the place—or maybe like he was trying not to look too ready to kill someone. And not because I had just learned that Marcus Vento, my brother’s old partner, was framing Raffaele to distract from his own sins. No, I didn’t sleep because the whole world felt like it had tilted. The law—the thing I built my life on—suddenly felt like a crooked ladder. And the only hand reaching out to pull me up belonged to a man who probably broke more laws before breakfast than I had in my whole career.

Being a lawyer had its perks, and access to certain databases was definitely one of them. "Okay, good idea," Mari said, standing up and smoothing down her turquoise velvet dress. "I'm booking a table at DeLuca's. It's quiet and dimly lit. Are you two absolutely sure you don't mind staying?" she asked, looking over at Tiana and Greg. "An opportunity to look after my favourite nephews could be exactly the distraction I need," Tiana mused, managing a weak smile.

But most especially strange, and painful, was the fact that Andres was still yet to see his wife after everything that had happened so far. “It is just as I said, Mr. Manuel. I am the lawyer that has been assigned to your case. Please take a seat.” Andrès glared suspiciously at the woman, but he slowly lowered himself into the single seat that was there and linked his arms together. “Thank you for choosing to see me today. As your lawyer—“

It didn't matter that the black hooded woman endured the pain from the grip. "I am a lawyer who is ready to put you in jail," Zaweel replied calmly making both listeners widen in disbelief. His appearance was far from that of one who understood the law. Haziya didn't ask Miska about the work of the man who suddenly arrived at Miska's house, because she wasn't curious and didn't share any further curiosity about Zaweel. The problem alone was enough to make him dizzy. "Don't make it up, mistress. You just go out, she's my wife, I have nothing to do with you."

everyone turned to me in awe, wondering how am able to have such powerful people as my lawyers. just incase you are clueless and has no idea who they are, let me introduce them to you. let me handle that boss, Martin spoke in a professional tone. boss? one of the shareholders in the room asked in shock as they exchanged bewildered looks. sure I said to Martin. hello everyone, my name is Martin and this is my assistant Jules, I am Mr Harrison Smith's lawyer. moving forward, I want you to beware of whatever you say to my client because I will be sure to take records of every details.