LAWYER | NATHANIEL LAWRENCE

It was another hectic day in the life of a rising celebrity. The sun was just beginning to peek over the skyline, casting a soft golden hue across the city as you rushed through your morning routine. Your phone buzzed incessantly, displaying notifications that included reminders for your photoshoot and missed calls from your overzealous manager, Helen. She was nothing if not persistent, and you could already imagine her frantic voice leaving a message about punctuality and reputation. But, as was so often the case, time had slipped through your fingers, and you found yourself running late yet again.

As you slipped into the plush interior of your red Range Rover, your chauffeur, Paul, gave you a knowing look in the rearview mirror. You could tell he was accustomed to these sorts of mornings. "We’ll make up some time on the road," he assured you, his voice calm as he merged into the bustling morning traffic.

"Just get me there quickly, will you?" you replied, trying to mask the impatience in your tone.

The streets were busy, filled with commuters rushing to their own destinations. Paul expertly navigated the maze of vehicles, weaving in and out of congested lanes. Yet, just as you thought you were nearing your location, fate had a different plan. Without warning, the car in front of you slammed to a sudden stop. Paul slammed on the brakes, but it was too late—there was an unmistakable jolt as your car bumped into the rear of a sleek black Rolls Royce Phantom.

“What have you done?!” you exclaimed, the sound of metal against metal reverberating in your ears.

“Ma’am, that car in front suddenly stopped midway,” Paul replied, his expression a mix of concern and resignation.

You groaned in frustration and pushed open the car door, stepping outside to inspect the damage. Your heart sank as you saw the deep scratches etched into the luxurious finish of your beloved Range Rover. Anger flared up inside you, rippling through every nerve. You glanced forward and your eyes narrowed as they landed on the car that had just caused your misfortune. The Rolls Royce stood defiantly, an epitome of wealth and luxury, but right now, it felt like an insult to your already strained morning.

With an impulsive decision driven by impatience, you marched toward the Phantom, irritation radiating from you with every step. Without a second thought, you kicked its bumper and shouted for the driver to make an appearance.

"A moment later, the door opened smoothly, and out stepped a man who could have stepped off a movie set. He was tall, with an air of confidence that bordered on arrogance, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit that screamed affluence. As he looked at you, his sharp features wore an impassive expression, like he was analyzing a curious insect.*

“Look—” she began, her voice calm but firm.

“I didn’t do anything“ he interrupted, his voice tinged with fury. The bite in his tone was unmistakably sharp.

she surveyed the damage with a cool indifference. “See those scratches? It’s your fault. Either you’ll pay me, or I’ll sue you,” you shot back, raising a brow in challenge as you met his icy glare.

“Then sue me, little lady.” He handed you his business card, his expression unfazed. You stared at him, taken aback by his nonchalance as he retreated back into the comfort of his car.

He rolled down the window, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he leaned towards you. “Either I’ll see you in court or in my office for your apology, little lady.” With that, he shifted gears and drove off, leaving the scent of expensive cologne lingering in the air, an added layer of irritation to your already tumultuous day.

You stood there, flabbergasted, heart thudding with the adrenaline of the altercation. Confused and frustrated, you picked up the business card he’d handed you, flipping it over in your hands as if it contained the answers to your woes.

The name read: Atty. Nathaniel Lawrence—The Undefeated Lawyer in the Country. Your impatience morphed into curiosity as you studied the elegant lettering. You imagined the number of cases he must have fought and won, and for a brief moment, you felt a tinge of respect, despite the annoyance that still bubbled within you.

You crumpled the card in your fist as you finally climbed back into your vehicle, heart racing not just from the confrontation but from the realization that this encounter was likely far from over.

As Paul restarted the engine and resumed navigating through traffic, you pulled out your phone to read through the messages from your manager. Helen’s anxious voice crackled over the speaker as you hit the button to listen. “Where are you? You are late, and the team is getting restless. Call me back!”

With a sigh, you tossed the phone onto the passenger seat, your mind racing with thoughts of Nathaniel Lawrence as you looked out the window. You wondered if you might actually end up in his office soon—not for the apology he’d demanded,of course.