ELARA~
“You had footage of the hallway to Ms.
Angela’s hotel room, and I’m guessing you didn’t intend to leak that in particular right?” Chris opened his mouth to speak, but Micheal didn’t even let him.
“Why do you have such footage, while that footage is missing from the hotel’s server.
Or are you not aware of it?”
Chris looked lost now, he shook his head “No”
“You’re under oath, Mr.
Maxwell”
“I said no” Chris looked at Isla.
“Because this footage like the first was also traced back to your network”
The room burst into murmurs, and for some kind of reason Chris couldn’t take his eyes off Isla.
“Order” the judge looked at Micheal “Do you have any proof of your claims”
“Yes your honor” Micheal got a flash drive from his bag and handed to the court.
A six-minute video of the hallway played.
It showed Angela walking into the room, then me arriving moments later and leaving after about four minutes
“If this video is thoroughly examined you can tell it was edited, most of the footage had been deleted.”
“Bullshit” Sterling got up
“Language” the judge hit his gavel once.
“My Lord, counsel is straying beyond the scope of this case and there’s no proof of that video being linked to Mr.
Maxwell.
That could be AI generated.”
The judge adjusted his glasses, looking between both of them.
“Based on the arguments presented, the court finds sufficient reason to question the plaintiff’s claims at this stage”
He went quiet for a while and so did the court room, he now read through some papers.
Looking up again he cleared his throat before speaking.
“The motion is denied.
We will proceed to further review”.
The hearing was adjourned for the day.
I glanced over at Isla one more time before taking my leave.
I hurried out, Ben and Sandre flanking me like human shields.
”Ray?” I stopped short in the hallway.
“What are you doing here?”
Ray Dickinson stood near the marble pillars, looking distinctly out of place in his casual streetwear.
He chuckled, though it sounded a bit forced.
“I, uh…
I came for support.
Thought you might need a friendly face that isn’t on the payroll.”
My chest tightened.
“Thank you.
Truly.”
”We have to leave,” a cold voice interrupted.
Isla appeared at my shoulder like a shadow.
She didn’t look at Ray; she looked through him.
“You shouldn’t be seen having public conversations right now, Elara.
The optics are a mess.”
”Oh,” I said, my voice dripping with the bitterness I’d been nursing since the recess.
“Now you see me?”
“Jesus Christ, Ms.
Jones” she stared me dead in the eyes and I could see the exhaustion in her eyes, but I was too angry to care.
“You’re riding with me” flashes of the kiss flooded my head and I took a step back.
Not with my sanity still in ruins
“No.
I didn’t come with you”
“Does that matter?”
“It doesn’t” I snapped.
“But I’m not riding with you”
“What’s with the sudden hostility?
I could swear few minutes ago…” She caught herself before the slip.
Letting out a sigh,she ran her fingers down her face then said.
“I’m your manager, and you’re riding back with me.”
“Funny.
Now you’re my manager again?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Ray coughed once and we turned our focus to him.
“I’ve got a phone call, please excuse me” He stepped back, offering me a concerned, lingering look before disappearing into the crowd.
The doors behind us creaked open.
The hearing was over, but the war was just starting.
Reporters pushed against the security barricade outside, camera flashes bursting through the glass walls.
I was already irritated enough to start an argument right there in the hallway when a hand landed on my shoulder.
I turned sharply to find my father’s head of security.
“Ms.
Jones,” Marcus said.
“Your father wants you riding with him today.”
I glanced at Isla.
Her jaw tightened instantly.
“She’s riding with me,” Isla said calmly, though something in her voice felt strained.
Marcus stared at Isla, then turned his attention to me.
For a second, nobody moved.
Then I looked back at her.
“Guess I’m riding with my father”
“The same man who sounded like I was disturbing when I invited him”
“You were the reason he came?
You know what?
Forget it.” I walked off before she could answer.
As I reached his car.
I looked back once.
Isla hadn’t followed me and somehow, that annoyed me more.
And down to my father who I hadn’t spoken to for more than four years now.
Isla was logically the better option.
The car smelled like leather and cigar smoke.
My father sat beside me silently as the vehicle pulled away from the courthouse.
“Can you not smoke next to me”
He paused, a silver lighter halfway to his face.
“Ah…
right.
My bad.” He gestured to the driver.
“Roll down the windows until the smoke clears.”
The driver nodded and the windows went down.
For the next two minutes the car was silent.
I hadn’t seen or spoken to him for a long time and as of why, I wasn’t ready to talk about.
Seeing him now felt like looking at a stranger who happened to share my bone structure.
“The footage,” he finally said.
“I never heard there was another recording.”
“I didn’t know,” I muttered.
“Apparently Isla keeps secrets for a living.”
My father gave a dry, mirthless scoff.
“Smart woman.
If you’re going to survive this industry, you don’t show your hand until the other side thinks they’ve won.”
I side-eyed him.
“If she didn’t reach out would you have come?”
“Of course not” his honesty annoyed me.
“Who would proudly attend a court case involving their daughter’s public scandals?”
”Scandals?
You mean my life.”
“I told you showbiz was a gutter, Elara.
Children who don’t listen live to bear the consequences of their pride.”
“You haven’t changed one bit” I said, turning to the window.
He wasn’t talking about Angela, at least not yet.
“After all this dies down I want you to quit”
“What?”
“Join me in the family business, be useful for once”
“Is it not enough that you stole your son’s life?
You want mine too?.”
“Is that what he tells you?” His chuckle held no humor.
“Marcus, if the smoke is out, take the windows up.”
“Sir” the driver nodded.
The glass began to slide upward, sealing us back into our silent vacuum.
“Elara…” A deafening boom cut him off.
The ground shook.
I looked up through the glass just in time to see the upper floors of the Styles and Structure building—the twenty-story monolith we were driving past—burst outward in smoke and shattered glass before flames followed seconds later.
People screamed as shattered glass rained onto the street.
“Get down!” Marcus shouted.
As the car came to an abrupt stop.
The shockwave slammed into the car, shoving the armored vehicle sideways across the road.
My head cracked against the door as smoke swallowed the street.
The building groaned as sections of it collapsed inward floor by floor.
For a few seconds all I could hear was ringing.
Then screaming.
I forced myself upright, breathing hard.
Blood trickled from my father’s forehead beside me, but he was alive.
Everything blurred together.
Warm liquid ran down the side of my face, covering my right eye.
I could feel a sharp piercing on my head.
I touched it and flinched.
“Elara!” My father’s voice sounded distant now.
Then everything went black.