ChapterThree

928 Words
(Pamela) . . I’M SEATED at my kitchen table, a bowl of mushroom soup in front of me. But I’m not looking at my plate, rather at the thick stack of legal documents right next to the bowl. My hands tremble as I read the name at the top: Massimo D’Amato. I can barely breathe. “You’re joking, right?” I ask no-one in particular. I’m still finding it hard to believe that that man had actually kept to his words. His last statement echoes through my head and I shiver slightly: See you in court. Erik lets out a soft whimper from his crib, right next to the couch, where I can keep a close eye on him from the kitchen. It’s as if he can sense my distress at everything that’s been happening. Clara, another one of my childhood friends, leans against the counter. She doesn't look too happy either. “I wish I were. They’re coming after Erik, Pam. They’re going to fight tooth and nail.” I get up from the table and begin to pace around the tiny space of my apartment. My head is already aching from thinking too much. “They can’t just take him away!” I lament. “I promised Anna. He’s all I have left of her.” Clara sighs. “The D’Amatos have money, lawyers, and influence. You have…a high school teacher’s salary and a one-bedroom apartment. I hate to say it, but we need a miracle.” The doorbell rings startling us. Erik begins to cry and I rush over to attend to him. Clara goes over to the door, and sure enough, there is a man in a dark suit standing there. He’s holding another envelope. “Court summons,” Clara remarks, her eyes scanning the envelope. I sigh deeply. My focus is still on my cute nephew. He stares adorably up at me. “I don’t care how powerful they are,” I whisper fiercely as I stroke his soft, blond hair. “I’m not giving you up. Never.” *** The courtroom is intimidating from where I’m seated at the plaintiff’s table. But it’s probably because in all my 29 years of existence, I’ve never been in one before. I look around me, feeling out of place. The building has high ceilings and rows of polished wooden benches. The air is thick with tension and the faint murmur of voices echo off the ceilings. I pat invisible dust out of my skirt and try to calm my shaky nerves. In a few moments from now, the fate of Erik will be decided. Deep down, I don't want to know what the outcome will be. I won’t survive it if Erik is taken away from me. And even worse, my late sister would never forgive me. The heavy doors creak open and I immediately look up already knowing who it is. His presence fills the entire place before he even makes an appearance. My breath catches in my throat as Massimo walks in. Oh my God. He is beautiful. The last time I ever saw him was at the hospital but I was too blinded by grief to have a proper look at him. Now, under the courtroom’s harsh lights, there is no denying that his face is sculpted by the gods. There is also this arrogance around him as he steps forward. It’s as if he owns the damn place. He is putting on an expensive two-piece suit that hugs his broad shoulders and muscular arms. Today, his thick hair is neatly pulled back so that the focus is on the stubble sprouting out of that sharp jawline. As he passes by my table, his dark eyes land on me, pinning me in place. My chest tightens, and I force myself to breathe. Focus, Pamela. This man might look like he stepped out of a magazine cover, but he’s here to take Erik away from me. No amount of good looks can make me forget that! The hearing is brutal. Massimo’s lawyer has it all out for me. It’s as if his only goal is to paint me as unfit and unstable to the court. “Ms. Brown, can you explain how you plan to support Erik financially?” the middle-aged man asked, his voice dripping with disdain. My hands clench into fists beneath the table. I was already expecting this question but it still irritated me to no end. “I may not have money, but I have love,” I reply confidently. I had rehearsed my response several times that morning. “I can give him a home, a family. Something money can’t buy.” When the hearing ends, I pick up my purse and quickly walk away from the courtroom. I can hardly wait to return back to Erik, especially after receiving a text from Clara who is babysitting him. Unfortunately, I am not quick enough because Massimo corners me in the hallway. His cold gaze washes over me but I don’t look away. I won’t let him see my fear. “You’re fighting a losing battle,” he says, his voice low. “I suggest you save yourself the pain and step aside.” I can’t believe my ears. Anger rises up my throat. “You don’t scare me, Mr. D’Amato," I snap. “Erik belongs with me, and I’ll fight for him no matter what it takes.” I step around him and continue moving, with my head held high. But inside, it feels like I’m falling apart.
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