THE XANDERIA LAW FIRM: LOVE, LAW AND THORN.

CHAPTER 3 - JOSH

The low purr of the McLaren's machine desisted as the auto came to a stop in front of the obsidian- glass facade of the Xanderia Law establishment. Josh's baby stood great and altitudinous, towering over the rest of the megacity like the mammoth and authoritative CEO that possessed the structure would have other humans. The structure stretched like a darkened megalith into the morning sky, wrapped in citation plasterings that caught the early sun with a soft radiance. It stood as both symbol and fort, a personification of power, fineness, and perfection. It was everything Josh had erected with his own hands, sweat, a damn near ruthless quantum of discipline for himself, and a pledge that was participated between siblings. The door of the auto was pulled open before the motorist could react. Josh stepped out, shoes hitting the pavement like punctuation marks in the silence. His presence altered the atmosphere, like a drop of essay into clear water, subtle, also sluggishly consuming, bloodsucker like. No felicitations met him. Not a soul dared speak. it was what his quantum of power could do to people around him. It subdued. It brought the strong and potent to their knees and left the weak helpless the more.

He preferred it that way, untouchable, unobtainable. Towering in his fitted black suit with citation tie leg and crisp white shirt, he walked like someone who did not just enjoy the structure, but the time and people inside it. Xanderia's workers parted artificially, as if arranged by fear or reverence. presumably both, but utmost times he'd marvel at their deference, but he knew how important of a power he transuded. His sharp jaw, eyes brownish black with insomniac brilliance, experience, moxie, and an expression set in habitual incuriosity, made it clear, saying that there was no space for warmth just the law.

Just behind him, the ever- strained Branley followed, a man in his 30s, cerebral yet subtle in nature, tablet in hand, and voice low.

" Sir, Cedric arbitration closed last night. Opposing counsel conceded after reviewing our private deposition footage. Invoicing is in progress. Your morning schedule begins with the interview shortlists, a few from prestigious universities, and a lot of First Class degrees. Eliana insists we review them ourselves as to assess them —and then the board meeting on the 39th floor."

Josh didn’t respond. Not with words.

Branley, ever the loyal assistant, knew that silence meant permission to continue and to not irritate.

"Also, sir, you've got three new potential cases flagged by our legal diagnostics team. One of which involves cross-border trademark violations. I’ve prepared a shortlist for you to review before or after lunch, your choice, sir."

"After." He replied as he continued in lazy long strides across the Firms hall to his office.

They passed through the automated glass doors. Josh's cologne mingled with the scent of money and control. Inside the towering lobby, bronze-veined marble floors gleamed beneath overhead lighting that cascaded down like slow lightning. A sculpted wall bore the Xanderia insignia—an "X" entwined with laurel, both classic and ominous.

Eliana stood just ahead, plain as usual except for the pop red of lipstick she wears, clipboard cradled in one hand, a white-and-gold porcelain cup in the other, his usual right from day one.

"Ethiopian black roast. No sugar," she said, handing it to him. Her tone was clipped, professional, but Josh could see the faint twitch of her perfectly glossed lip. She was always trying not to smile at him. Always trying not to care too much.

She failed more often than she realized.

Eliana had been with him since the first year of Xanderia, right after she bagged her degrees and certificates. She wasn't just efficient she was psychic. Knew when to bring his coffee, when not to speak, when to shield him from distractions. Her loyalty was deep, but her curiosity ran deeper.

Josh took the coffee, brushing past her with a small nod.

"Interviews begin in twenty. They're in conference room A."

It was then that something rippled beneath his surface. Interviews. New blood. Law academy campaigners or burnt- outmid-level associates from contending enterprises. For an alternate, he drifted. He had formerly been one of them. It was times ago, but the memory returned now, unasked. He'd been nineteen, fresh into university. Law hadn't been a dream it was an escape. A discipline sharp enough to cut through poverty, grief, and the pang of abandonment. After their mama failed, Josh and his siblings, Smith and Ria, were left alone. Their father had dissolved into alcohol and absence, rately ever being at home to watch over the fruits of his now dead love. It was their mama ’s family, Aunt Lyia, who stepped in with what little she had. She covered pats of the education, kept food on the table when pupil subventions fell suddenly, and prevaricated to academy directors when necessary. Josh flashed back walking long hauls to attend lectures at Juria State University. He studied in libraries until they closed, scribbling indigenous canons by night back at home.His scholarship didn’t cover everything. So he worked. Cafe gigs. Home lessons. Anything to stay afloat.

Then came the internship.