chapter 9
1310 Words
Chapter 9
The morning seemed a little heavier than any other day in the city. People crowded in front of the courthouse, but an invisible, suppressed tension could be felt in that crowd.
The sky was also gray today—not cloudy, but filled with a strange filth. As if nature knew that something important was about to happen here.
Mikhail Grayson slowly entered the courthouse. The sound of his footsteps had become heavy with the fatigue of a few days. The dark circles under his eyes were evidence of countless nights of sleeplessness. Yet there was a kind of stillness in his eyes—no one could break him, at least not today.
As soon as he entered the courtroom, he felt the air getting heavier. The smell of old wood, the breeze from the ceiling fan, the whispers of people sitting on the benches—everything combined made it seem like this room was not an ordinary place, but a stage waiting for a decisive moment in life.
When Mikhail Grayson stood in the dock, a kind of silence descended on his whole body. As if he saw himself standing in a place from which he might never return in life.
Monica Dixon was sitting a little further away from the bench. Her face was strangely pale today. Even with makeup on her eyes, fatigue was showing. She wanted not to look at Mikhail Grayson, but her gaze kept falling on him. Occasionally, her eyes met.
Her hands were shaking, she was holding her fingers tightly together. The feeling was strange—she had been following what her family had said, but today, seeing Mikhail Grayson’s loneliness, something inside her was twisting in pain.
But she had no answer.
Mary Dixon—satisfaction in her eyes, a peace filled with cruelty on her face.
Mary Dixon was sitting next to Monica Dixon. Her face had the same stern, unwavering expression as always. The smile on the corner of her lips couldn't be a mother's smile—it was the smile of a soldier before going to war, who knew he would only return home if he won.
As Mikhail Grayson entered the courtroom, a strange glow of satisfaction could be seen in her eyes.
Everything was going according to her plan—a confidence shone in her body language as she realized it.
The trial began.
The court officer's solemn announcement made the courtroom even more silent.
“All rise.”
Everyone stood.
The judge came and took his own seat.
No one could tell which way he was leaning—but from the hard creases in his eyes, it seemed that he would reach a decision very quickly today.
Mary Dixon’s lawyer stood up. There was a pre-emptive celebration of victory in his voice.
He pointed to the large monitor.
“Your honor, the evidence is ready.”
Now the fake video was played.
Edited video—a video that turns lies into truth.
The screen shows Mikhail Grayson pushing Carlos hard, about to attack.
But the video is cut and pasted in such a way that the truth is not visible at all.
There is no sound, only the moments are arranged in such a way that the entire blame falls on Mikhail Grayson.
The faces of the people in the courtroom were filled with astonishment after watching the video.
“What! Did he really go to beat him?”
“Yes, look, look at him pushing!”
“Look! This is an attempt at murder!”
Whispers spread to every corner of the courtroom.
Mikhail Grayson stood calmly, just watching the video. A deep shadow of disappointment, humiliation, and helplessness gathered in his eyes.
He knew—this video was edited. It was fake, but there was nothing he could do about it.
But he had nothing to prove it.
Before the video could end, Mary Dixon’s lawyer shouted.
“Your honor, this is attempted murder. And there’s no doubt left.”
Monica Dixon closed her eyes.
Something tugged at her chest.
It’s not true—but she can’t prove it.
She can’t say it anymore.
The truth whispered in Mary Dixon’s ear. At that moment, Mary Dixon leaned toward Monica Dixon and whispered,
“See? I was right. I arranged everything properly.”
Monica Dixon paused.
“You… the video—?”
Mary Dixon smiled coldly.
“I did. That’s what he deserves. It was needed to punish him.”
Then she said in a lower voice,
“He’s poor. He can’t afford a lawyer. Today is his last day to stand in court. Very soon he’ll be at your feet. Just watch.”
She didn’t understand how she could endure this cruelty from Mary Dixon.
The judge's question—Mikhail Grayson’s loneliness exposed.
The judge now looked at Mikhail Grayson.
“Mr. Grayson, where is your lawyer?”
A moment of silence.
Mikhail Grayson said slowly, in a broken voice,
“I don’t have any lawyer, your honor.”
In a second, the courtroom was filled with chatter.
“He’s going to fight alone?”
“That’s impossible.”
“He’s definitely going to jail!”
Monica Dixon’s chest felt like it was going to burst. She couldn’t explain why she felt so bad.
The judge opened some files.
The severity was clear in his eyes.
“Very well. If the defendant has no lawyer, this court will move toward concluding the case.”
That satisfied smile flickered at the corners of Mary Dixon’s lips again.
Mikhail Grayson lowered his head. The corners of his eyes moistened, but he controlled himself.
Just then—an unexpected knock on the door.
Just as the judge was about to read the verdict—
Bang!
The courtroom door swung open with a loud bang.
Everyone was shocked.
Standing in the doorway was a tall, strong, aristocratic man—whom even the city’s biggest criminals feared.
One of whose winning cases made headlines in the newspapers.
Mr. Anthony.
His suit was immaculately clean, his eyes were filled with natural confidence, the courtroom shook with his steps.
The people stared in disbelief.
“Mr. Anthony!”
“Why is he here?”
“He doesn’t take on ordinary people’s cases! You fight for the wealthiest people in town. So how is he here!”
“And what’s his connection to Mikhail Grayson?”
Mary Dixon’s face instantly drained of color.
Her eyes, mouth, and lips went dry.
This wasn’t part of her plan.
For the first time, her expression showed fear.
Monica Dixon froze in surprise.
Her breathing quickened. She couldn’t understand what was happening.
Mikhail Grayson stared, as if he were dreaming.
He had never imagined that such a man would stand up for him in court.
Anthony's announcement—the entire courtroom was silent.
Mr. Anthony slowly walked forward.
The entire room fell silent. Even though he was breathing heavily, it seemed like his voice would echo in the courtroom.
He stood before the judge, his voice deep, steady, and fearless.
“Your honor,” he said,
“I am representing Mr. Mikhail Grayson. From this moment, I am his lawyer.”
The entire courtroom exploded—not in sound, but in silence.
Everyone was shocked.
Mary Dixon stared wide-eyed.
Her smile seemed to disappear somewhere.
Monica Dixon’s hands went cold.
Mikhail Grayson closed his eyes for a second—
A single tear glimmered in his eyes, but it wasn’t of sadness—
but of a feeling he had felt many years later:
Someone was standing by his side.
The judge said slowly,
“Mr. Anthony… this is unexpected.”
He shook his head slightly.
“And justice often is, your honor.”
And with that one sentence, the entire courtroom stopped again.
The first real support in Mikhail Grayson’s life appeared before his eyes.
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