Chapter 001: Of Stitches and Courtrooms
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Damien had always seemed charmed by fortune—strikingly handsome, with billions to his name and countless properties. But how exactly did his fortune begin?

In the case of Mr. And Mrs. Spock, without any further adues, the guilt has been proved lavishly by Mr. Damien Lane, the renowned lawyer.

"It was quite the fun," said Damien to the reporters who were waiting for his statement. His Prada suit was sleek and smooth, like polished obsidian—just one of the things that gets everyone's attention. He continued his journey home, his footsteps echoing away from the crowd as his bodyguards blocked them away.

The yellow leaves of the spring season really covered his whole limo like toppings on a chocolate swiss bread. There, he saw his personal assistant, all ready to drive him to where he wanted to go.

"Mr. Lane, it was such a huge victory for us! We knew that you were the best man for the job," said his P.A. with a smile on her face before starting the car's engine.

"Where's the driver I hired?" he asked in his cold tone.

"I told you that I am also capable of driving your limo, Sir. Besides, I'm more trustworthy than those other drivers of yours who only want your money," she replied as he settled at the back of the car.

"Suit yourself," he spoke.

With a flick of his finger, the vehicle crossed the Winston Bridge, located near a famous Catholic graveyard. He sat there nonchalantly as his eyes couldn't bear to notice how his assistant's eyes kept on checking him through the car's front mirror.

"Keep your eyes fixed on the road!" he ordered.

"Sorry, Mr. Lane," the woman replied as she focused her eyes in front of her.

"Pull over," he said in a dry voice as he remembered his argument in the court.

"Sir?" she asked out of being confused.

"I said, pull over," he repeated.

For just a few moments, the limo stopped on a vast land, not seeming to be a place for a happy-go-lucky man like Damien Lane. The scene of silence greeted him as an old friend, welcoming him back to reality.

The graveyard was crowded with mourners, as it was the day of remembrance for the ten people who had died in a courthouse due to a short circuit.

As he walked further and further, he reached a tombstone marked with a black marble stone. He halted in front of it and knelt down like a warrior, slight tears in his eyes.

"Mum, today I won my 100th case. Everyone congratulated me, and I even appeared in this week's paper," he said softly. "But I still feel like I'm missing something in my life, and we both know it's you."

After his dad died, he still remembered his mother working tirelessly at the courthouse. The memory of the judge's sarcastic remark lingered vividly when she won her 100th case.

"You do know that life has its losing parts, right? Do you know about it?" he grinned as he repeated how and what the person once told her mother. Damien smiled slightly before a soft laugh escaped, tears rolling down his smooth cheeks.

"Oh, well. I'll be going now," he spoke, wiping away the remnants of his tears.

He placed some flowers on his mother's grave and then quietly left the place.

"Come on," he spoke to his assistant as their journey back home continued.

And with that, all eyes turned back to him. He slipped a wad of cash into his pocket, slid into his Porsche, and roared onto the road as the engine's growl echoed through the night after his visit.

"Hey there, ladies," he called out, a sly grin spreading across his face as two young women in their finest outfits approached his car, who idled on a quiet suburban street.

"Hi, handsome," one of them said, her eyes sparkling as she leaned closer with a playful smile curling her lips.

He grabbed the door handle and swung it open, making way for the ladies. "Who's riding shotgun?" one of them asked.

"Why don't you ladies sit behind me? Once we reach town, we'll party like it's the end of the world!" he said, a mischievous glint in his eye.

After his long hours of work, he knew that he also needed to loosen up and have fun. All he knew was that accumulated stress can make someone insane.

The raging autumn winds brushed his hair as the Porsche dashed the cold, dark streets. The town was already at the horizon when his phone rang halted the journey.

"Damien, where are you?" asked his friend on the phone, his voice sounding impatient.

"Don't worry, I'll be there," Damien replied, a grin spreading across his face. "Besides, you're the one interrupting me."

He cranked up the lively beat in his car, pressing the accelerator again. The ladies and he sang along, carefree about the noise or his speed.

As they reached the mountain's highest peak, overlooking the entire town, the sound of clinking wine glasses filled the air.

"I'm glad you made it!" his best friend, Benedict, greeted him.

"Sure! How could I miss this celebration?" Damien replied. "Besides, I've got some ladies to entertain tonight."

Benedict just rolled his eyes, teasing his playful friend.

A table stood in the middle, adorned with expensive wine. Loud music blasted from the stereo, and the three newcomers let the rhythm take over their bodies.

Lost in the moment, they paid no attention to the passing time. Suddenly, a deafening bang shattered the air, propelling them backward. A piercing beep filled Damien's ears as he watched one of the ladies crumple beside him, blood trickling from her head.

He tried to call out his name, but his voice was drowned out. As he attempted to stand, darkness engulfed him, taking him towards the abyss.

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Authors' Note:

The story takes inspiration from the message of the song Old Town Road. The song is about success and fortune and they were applied on the chapter.

The setting and the music playing in the car match the song's feel, blending the old country vibe with modern elements. The music they are playing is Old Town Road. The setting us also an old town road with old memories of yesteryears.

The line 'Ride 'til I can't no more' can be felt here if you dig deeper to what is currently happening.

~𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕭𝖆𝖐𝖊𝖗 𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖙 𝕿𝖗𝖎𝖔~
~ Miffy, lorainejd, and Musebime ~