Gemotions

The lawyer’s office was cold, the air thick with the scent of old paper and suppressed anxiety. "So, you are saying this book, this *thing*, is a factual account of my life?" Arthur asked, his voice laced with disdain. He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. The man sat across from him had to be lying.

His lawyer, a woman with a kind but businesslike face, merely nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. The author has done their research, Mr. Blackwood. Legally, it's quite difficult to dispute."

Arthur’s knuckles were white. He had spent his life meticulously crafting an image, a persona. Now, some stranger had decided to tear it down. He wouldn't let them.

His eyes narrowed as he considered his options. He would take it apart. Line by line. Word by word.