Gemotions

The lawyer’s office was opulent, all dark wood and leather furniture. He leaned back in his chair, the letter – the confirmation – on the gleaming desk. His fingers drummed lightly on the polished surface, a rhythmic beat against the quiet hum of the air conditioning.

He’d won. The legal battles, the accusations, the public scrutiny – all now belonged to the past. He ran a hand through his perfectly coiffed hair. He felt a sense of power surging through him, a knowledge that he had prevailed.

He steepled his fingers, a small smile playing on his lips. He was in control. He had orchestrated every move, and now, he reaped the rewards. He picked up the phone.