Objection My Lord

Chapter 5: Wines and Wounds

The restaurant was warm, golden, alive with laughter and the clink of glasses. But Daya felt none of it. She sat across from her best friend, Zara Malik, her untouched glass of Merlot catching the candlelight.

Zara studied her in silence for a long moment, her dark eyes narrowed. “You look like someone just ran over your dog. Twice.”

Daya let out a humorless laugh. “More like someone torched my entire career.”

“Ah,” Zara said, leaning back, swirling her wine. “So this is about the case.”

“This is about losing the case,” Daya corrected sharply. The word still burned in her mouth. She dragged her fingers through her sleek bun, letting it loosen just slightly. “I had it, Zara. I swear I had it. And then… Fischer.”

"Why did I feel like you took this case a tad bit personal?? since when did you start sulking over cases Daya?"

"since I started losing them, zara" she said sharply

"I don't know Daya... you know I can read you like a book right, I feel like there's more.... oh wait... let me guess....."

Daya chuckles drily

"you reached out to Hillary Fischer telling him how much you adored him and he couldn't care less than to wipe the floor with your ass, the classic 'don't meet your heroes' that sucks" she said sarcastically

Daya shot her a death stare

"I'm sorry..." she chuckled "but it's kind of ironic, you know, holding this grudge against someone for like, your whole life and he didn't even know you existed and then you get the chance to get at him, you know...." she sipped from her cup "be the woman that ate up that court case and left no crumbs, beat him to the game he was literally born into, and then you lost to him, that sucks, you must feel embarrassed" she said blatantly

Daya heaved a sigh, someone that gets it, Zara knew her, she was so right, she did feel embarrassed, but it wasn't just the case, it was the fact that she had let herself sleep with him.

"I wish it was just that.." she took a sip from her glass "so I didn't tell you about the events of last night..."

"Last night?? sounds intriguing... start spilling"

"So Daniel broke up with me, he sent me a stupid text..."

"that piece of shit... you know how I never liked him, I should say I told you so but I won't do so right now, heal from this and await my incessant tauntings"

"haha, you were always right about that one"

"I'm always right"

"either ways..., I was in the bar, annoyed and whatnot when this guy started talking to me and we like had this whole conversation and it was fun and like, whatever...." she took a sip from her glass

Zara was already getting restless...

"how did it end, tell me everything.."

"it ended in his hotel room"

"ouuuu... look at you... that's my Daya, I'm so proud of you, I love the woman you're becoming babes, you have length a lot from me, you know the ol' saying 'if you want to get over a man.....'"

"I never asked his name, I only spoke about me, I made it all about me and I feel like..."

"is that supposed to be a problem?? that was a f*****g fling, it doesn't matter what you two talked about, you're never seeing each other again..."

"I thought so too, I really did... but guess what..??"

Zara’s brows lifted. “Wait. was it Fischer? Hillary Fischer? Future CEO of Fischer and Co????...... please tell me it wasn't” she said cringing

Daya’s jaw clenched. “it was.” she said as low as possible.

Heat flared in Daya’s cheeks. She tried to bury it under her glare. “you know what..., It doesn’t even matter.”

“Oh, it so matters.” Zara leaned forward, voice dropping like a conspirator’s. “You slept with a Fischer, you have hated their lineage for as long as you have walked this earth, taking them down is all you have ever talked about, that's like one your dream board or some s**t like that and not only that, Hillary is your courtroom nemesis. That’s not just a scandal waiting to happen—that’s Shakespearean tragedy level. when you spend most of your life hating on someone, the least you could have done was know what they looked like, Daya...”

“It's just life f*****g with me” Daya muttered.

Zara softened then, her teasing fading into something gentler. “D, you’ve always carried the world like it owes you something. I get it. You fought your way up from nothing. You didn’t have connections, or a family name, or even money for college. You clawed every inch with your own nails.”

Daya’s throat tightened. She hated how easily Zara could see through her armor. “And what good is it, if one mistake can tear it all down?”

“Listen to me.” Zara reached across the table, squeezing her hand. “You’re not defined by one loss. You’re defined by the fight. And if anyone knows how to fight, it’s you.”

Daya stared down at their joined hands, her chest aching. For a moment, the noise of the restaurant faded, and she felt the weight of her exhaustion pressing hard. She wanted to believe Zara. But Whitmore’s voice still echoed in her head: Lose again, and we’ll take him instead.

She pulled her hand back, lifting her glass at last, swallowing the wine in one sharp sip. “Then I guess I better make sure I don’t lose again.”

Zara tilted her glass in salute. “That’s my girl. But maybe—just maybe—don’t mix business with bar hookups next time.”

"how was the s*x???, was it hot?? tell me everything, was it so good that you pictured him naked when you saw him in court?, was that why you lost...?"

"ewww Zara...."

"I'm just joking.... or not"

Daya forced a laugh, but inside, her resolve was iron. There wouldn’t be a next time. Not with Fischer. Not with anyone.