The Summons John Grisham Novels & Stories

"Mr. Cranston, on behalf of my client, Mrs. Shepherd, I hereby formally serve you with a court summons. The cause of action is a dispute over the prenuptial agreement you signed. "My client asserts that the ten million dollars in cash and the riverfront apartment in Azure Bay that were given to you and your family were explicitly conditional upon all of the children you have with Ms. Shepherd taking their mother's last name. "Since you have breached the agreement, in accordance with the law and the terms of the agreement, my client demands the full return of all assets. You will also need to pay damages for the breach and cover all litigation costs. "All of the evidence has been organized an

“Yes. Especially since I really need it after reading the court summons that arrived at the office this afternoon. I'm worried that you and Alan will be devoured by that one piranha.” “Piranha?” I asked, tilted my head to him. “Malcolm Golden, the prosecuting attorney. My father's archenemy.”

As the elevator doors closed, Aria grabbed the envelope and ripped it open. Her breath caught. Damon’s eyes widened. Inside was a single sheet of paper. A court summons. Filed anonymously. Accusing Damon Reed of corporate fraud, obstruction of justice, and coercion. Aria’s pulse spiked. “They’re trying to arrest you,” she whispered. Damon exhaled slowly. “We’re officially at war.”

But his fingers clenched around the edge of his boarding pass, and the cardboard made a crinkling sound under his fingertips. Jenny held the summons in front of him. The paper trembled slightly in the air currents of the terminal, with a rustling sound at the edges. “Jennifer Walsh, managing partner of Sunlit Legal. This is a subpoena issued by the United States District Court for the Southern District of New York. Mr. Marcus Winter, you are required to testify regarding the registration information of Aegis Holdings, the flow of funds, and any connections to the Winter Trust held by Robert Hynes.” Winter’s gaze fell on the summons. His pupils constricted slightly as his eyes swept over the

The door opened. Inside, the Chief Prosecutor sat behind a large desk. His expression was neutral—formal, unreadable. But what immediately put Daven on alert wasn’t the man’s face. It was the distant noise from outside the building—faint, yet unmistakable—even from inside the room. “Please, have a seat, Mr. Callister,” the Chief Prosecutor said. Daven sat down. Richard took a position beside him. “This summons is being made due to public pressure,” the man continued, “as well as recent developments in the investigation.”

I had never seen this man before, but the moment he called himself an attorney, dread settled deep in my gut. “Did I do something wrong?” I muttered under my breath. But he was already gone. Slowly, I lowered my gaze to the document in my hands. My heartbeat pounded against my ribs as I read the words in front of me. “You are hereby summoned to appear before the Supreme Court of Manderin on March 19, 2024, at 2 PM regarding a formal accusation against you. This summons is issued under the full authority of the court and must be treated with the utmost urgency.

He walked up my walkway to where I was sitting. “Lucille Margret Traynor?” the young man asked, adjusting his sunglasses. “Yes?” “I have the court documents requested by your lawyer to be delivered to you, and a court summons for your granddaughter, Vivian Traynor.” I rest the phone against my chest. “Court summons?” “Yes, ma’am.” He handed me the envelope. I took it, staring at him in confusion. I thought the court date was set? Why is she being summoned? The man's glasses slipped, and his eyes staring back at me were ruby red, startling me before I could ask any questions.

On it was a single, heavy envelope. "I’m Ethan Walker." The courier stepped over the police tape. He handed me the envelope. He didn't wait for a tip. He turned and walked out into the rain without a word. "That’s not a lawsuit." Caleb stepped up beside me. He looked at the wax seal. A crest. A crown with a thorned vine. My heart slammed against my ribs. I tore the paper open. "It’s a summons," I whispered. My throat went dry. "Samuel Brooks."

my father said, looking at me, almost daring me to say something. "Mr. Berlusconi, I've conducted thorough research. It turns out that she no longer has a fiancé. You actually returned the money to him two years ago," Bossman informed me, leaving me even more astonished. "Wait, he did research," I asked myself. "I don't know what you are talking about, Mr. Gravano," my father said without taking his eyes off me. I turned to Bossman, not wanting to look at that prick, and noticed him calling Samuele over. Samuele handed him a file and walked away.

Simon looked up, taking in the sign—Justhold Law Firm, a place he hoped to get some answers he needed. “Now, for you to book an appointment so late and appear mere hours after that tells me you have something pressing to discuss.” Oliver said as Simon walked into the office. “Hello Oliver,” Simon smiled, shaking the hand he extended to him. “Now, come, have a seat, and let’s get right into it.” Oliver responded. Simon dropped the court summons on the table, and Oliver picked it up. He took a few minutes to read through the content, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.