Vex

The bed didn't provide the comfort Nathan was used to. The water looked so dirty that he would close his nose and gulp it. The food plates weren't made from ceramic. The long dining table wasn't just for him. He had to wear and wash the same clothes. There was no individual bathroom with a bathtub for him.

Also, the leader of the prison. Mr. Dark and his minions are known as shadows. A group of three feared by every individual in the jail.

Nathan doesn't understand why he catches the leader watching him with tentative eyes. He is not found fighting, let alone with a thug. He would rather sleep through the cell than face the glare of the dark.

He didn't get the courage to talk or reply to anyone there. People sitting next to him to dine who start chatting about random things. Yet, instead of turning himself into the crowd. He would sink further in his seat.

He often found himself seated in his office cabin, enveloped in a heavy silence that felt worlds away from the chaos outside. In stark contrast, the people around him had no concept of tranquility. Within these walls, the prisoners clashed like stormy seas—voices rose in fierce arguments during meal times, while others exchanged silent, piercing glares that could cut through the thick atmosphere. Their restlessness filled the air, creating an unsettling harmony of tension and conflict that left no room for peace.

On another bleak day spent in the confines of his cell, Nathan sat hunched over, his arms wrapped tightly around himself as if seeking warmth from the chill that enveloped him. He gazed intently at the cold, unyielding iron rods of the gate, his mind racing yet empty. Shadows danced across the walls, echoing his turbulent emotions. 

 Questions swirled in his thoughts, each one more painful than the last: What more could unfold in this dark chapter of his life? He felt trapped in an existential limbo, a monotonous cycle that seemed to stretch into eternity. 

The weight of despair bore down on him, thick and suffocating, as he confronted the harsh reality that everything he once cherished had crumbled beyond repair. Most devastating was the image of his love, a figure once radiant and steadfast, now starkly juxtaposed against his own desolation.

Nathan chuckled. Why would the model not stand against him? He has given more reason for the brown-eyed man to push him away.

"Eugene Raynott is here to meet you." The cold voice pulled him from his thoughts.

Nathan's fingers tightened around the cold, unyielding metal bar, his grip a desperate anchor as he strained to pull himself upwards. His heart raced, echoing in his ears, as he scanned the chaotic surroundings with frantic intensity. 

The air was thick with dust and the faint echoes of distant cries, but his focus was singular—he was searching for his beloved brother. With each labored breath, he willed himself to rise higher, his eyes darting between shadows and the flickering light, hoping to catch a glimpse of the familiar figure he feared he might lose forever.

"Brother!" Nathan calls hands cutting through the air to hold his brother.

Eugene quickly stepped in front of his younger brother, his heart heavy with a mix of concern and affection as he took his brother's hand in his own. The once-smooth skin, now rough and calloused, told the story of hard work as time passed. 

Gone were the bright, vibrant eyes that used to sparkle with youth and hope—now they reflected a weariness that weighed heavily on his brother's spirit. The uniform he wore hung loosely on his frame, frayed at the edges and stained in places, a stark contrast to the proud attire he used to do with confidence.

"How are you?" Eugene asked, caressing his face tenderly. "Look, what stupid question am I asking? Of course, you are not okay."

"Are you eating well, hmm?"

Nathan gave a slow, deliberate nod, feeling a wave of warmth and comfort envelop him. The journey he had embarked on in search of solace seemed to conclude at this moment; he realized that what he had been yearning for was right here, with him. 

His brother, always a steady presence, stood by his side, and with that familiar bond, a profound sense of security filled Nathan's heart. As long as they faced the world together, he felt an unwavering conviction that nothing could derail them or disrupt their path.

"Nathan, I'm here to tell you something," Eugene whispered, glancing next to him.

Nathan followed his eyes, finding Alfie standing in front of him.

"What are you doing here? Aren't you happy after seeing me here?" Nathan snaps, glaring at Alfie with hatred; however, tears of betrayal fill his eyes. "How could you?"

Alfie glanced away, a wave of anxiety washing over him as he nervously played with the hem of his jacket, fingers tugging at the fabric in a bid to distract himself from the moment. He took a deep breath, preparing to turn and leave the scene behind. 

Just as he was about to step away, he felt a firm grip around his wrist. It was Eugene, his expression a mix of concern and determination. The unexpected touch sent a jolt through Alfie, freezing him in place as he met Eugene's eyes, searching for the words that hung heavily in the air between them.

"Nathan, you know, you were wrong. You cannot deny that you took the wrong path to win Dean. What Alfie is out of guilt." Glancing at Alfie. "He was carrying the guilt for so many days. If he thought through supporting Dean, he could seek forgiveness. He wasn't wrong in doing so."

Nathan pressed his lips together, stepping back tenderly.

Eugene's heart palpates when his hand slips past Nathan's fingers.

"Nathan, there is no harm in accepting your wrongdoings. Please, Nathan, try to understand. I only have you; after Dad, you both did wrong, not just Dean. But, also to his donor."

Nathan pressed himself against the wall, hiding far from his brother's sight. Eugene grips the iron bars tightly, pressing his forehead against it.

Alfie held Eugene's shoulder, trying to comfort him. He cannot understand what Eugene might be going through. The man is unable to say anything to Dean, nor can he support his brother.

"Brother," Nathan whispered, pushing himself forward. "Please ask Alfie to tell everything he knows."

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Throughout history, there has been a widely held belief that justice will eventually prevail, regardless of the circumstances. It is commonly asserted that those accused of wrongdoing will ultimately face appropriate consequences.

No matter how fervently someone attempts to obscure it, the undeniable truth will inevitably come to light.

Over time, justice tends to balance, holding wrongdoers accountable for their actions.

What about those who strive for righteousness? What becomes of the individuals dedicated to seeking justice, the countless souls who endure the lengthy and often painful journey toward fairness? How many people truly recognize the depth of their suffering?

Why do these good-hearted individuals become ensnared in the same pit of despair as those who commit wrongdoing?

What wrong deed have they done that compels them to shed more tears, endure deeper anguish, and exhibit greater resilience than those who have violated?

Dean inhaled the court air, which was thick with tension. His eyes fell on the papers kept on the table. His fingers took them in quick motion.

"Your honor, I would like to call Ms. Freya," Dean spoke through the mic and straightened his shirt.

Freya looked at Calder and then at her manager. Holding her hands together, she pushed herself from the seat. Her scarf hid her face from the world.

Dean looks at the papers and back at the famous model. "Ms. Freya, on the day of my, Dean's abduction. Where were you?"

Freya furrowed her eyebrows. "I was out of the station. I had an important event to attend."

Dean nodded his head. "Where were you the day before yesterday?"

Freya noticed Dean's demeanor and presence of mind. She controlled her urge to roll her eyes. "I was in a photoshoot."

Dean nodded, "I believe even Sabastian was present with you?"

Freya's breath hitched, looking at Dean. "Why would he be there?" She stuttered.

Dean understood she wouldn't accept easily.

He nodded with a smile. "Right, why would he be there?"

Dean looks at the bunch of papers in his hand. "May I know what inspired you to become a model?"

Freya frowns. How is her presence related to his abduction? Nevertheless, she replies, "I wished to become famous and be on TV."

Dean absorbs the answer with a nod. "Alright, how was your audition process?"

Nathan's lawyer furrowed his eyebrows and spoke through the mic. "Objection! Your honor, this is nowhere near related to the case. Ms. Freya wasn't even present when Mr. Dean was abducted." He looked at Dean. "I don't understand. Why are we wasting the court's time?"

Dean nodded at the lawyer and turned back to the judge. "Please give me a few more minutes."

Mrs. Agnes glanced at them and clasped her fingers together on the table. "Objection overruled. Plaintiff, please continue."

Dean smiled, "Ms. Freya, how was the audition process? Was it easy to get a spot in the crowd of models?"

Freya looks down, her mind reverting to the time she was in her early 20s. "It wasn't. It never was. I struggled so much. I had to stand for hours and get rejected. My day would start with newspaper reading, articles, advertisements, and social media, to find a shiny pebble in the vast ocean."

Freya noticed the pin-drop silence around her, quickly recovering from internal thoughts. "Anyways, I found a dream company and am very happy with it."

Dean nods. "May I know, when did you sign your first contract?"

"It was January 2020, after I completed all the selection rounds."

"May I know which company it was?"

"The well-known company called Emricon."

Dean swiftly turns towards the judge, showing a copy of the contract to the judge. "Your honor point will be noted. Ms. Freya signed the contract with Emricon in January 2020."

Mrs. Agnes looks through the contract with a frown.

Freya parts her lips with shock. "That's not correct. Isn't it a breach of privacy? How could Dean get the contract, which is supposed to be confidential and between the parties alone?"

Dean looks back at Freya with a grin. "Which is coming to an end in 7 days." He looks back at the judge. "Also, the contract has already been breached by Ms. Freya herself."

Freya gasped, "That's not possible."

"That can be discussed later." Dean dismissed her words. "Coming back to the point, Ms. Freya Rubain has got the contract after the death of Ms. Amelia Carter."

Nathan's lawyer clenched his fists tightly and pressed on the mic. "Objection! Why is Amelia coming to this picture? Who is this Amelia when we are here to know the judgment for my client, who has been falsely accused?"

The plaintiff turns, watching the lawyer lose his calm. The veins throbbed against his bangs.

Mrs. Agnes speaks through the mic. "I would like to know why she is involved, too, mister. How about we both listen to what the plaintiff has up his sleeve?" She smiles at Dean. "Objection overruled; you may continue."

Dean smiled, taking a file, that Calder gave. "Your honor, my abduction may have occurred recently. However, it is related to a past incident." He presents the file to the court.

"This file has all the data collected by Officer Calder. He has reopened the case to get proper justice. Coincidentally, Amelia was a very good friend of Freya's." He stood in front of Freya, watching her hands with curiosity.

"Ms. Freya, on the day of the accident, did you meet Ms. Amelia?"

Freya didn't expect Dean to ask such a question. She thought it would just be asking a yes or no question related to Dean. However, it looks as though things are going out of hand.

She avoids Dean's eyes and blinks her eyes. "Yeah, I did."

"Wonderful. How was it meeting your friend after a long time?"

Freya frowns, looking away with jaws clenched.

Dean noticed the eye movements between Freya and the lawyer. Dean swiftly added before the lawyer could object, "Must be a good feeling for adding drowsy pills in her coffee."

The courtroom fell into the pit of silence. Few are watching Freya with wide eyes watching the court and whispering, "Wh-What nonsense. Why would I mix such things in her coffee?"

Dean tilts his head, taking a few steps back, and turns on the recording of Dr. Jenifer, where she confesses whatever, she hears.

Mrs. Agnes was aware of everything, so she made no comments. However, the lawyer could already see the situation. He could see where this case was heading, and it was a bad omen.

"Ms. Freya Rubain, when did I say that you were the one adding those pills? I just shared some info, right?"

Freya watched the cunning man with red eyes. He is playing with her mind.

"Perhaps it was you, then?" Dean smiles and gently nods, urging the lady to do the same.

Calder pressed his lips together and crossed his arms over his chest. He noticed the call was still connected to Roman. Since his friend couldn't attend the court, he could listen to everything from the hospital bed.

Roman, lying on the bed, tilted his head towards Dean's billboard. The earphone hung on his right ear. With a long sigh, tears fell from his eyes. His heart clenched painfully in his chest.

Finally, Amelia will get her justice. The cruel, selfish world cannot just take an innocent life and live normally. Those monsters deserve ruthless, merciless killing. They should beg for death, and it shouldn't be granted.

"Your honor, when Ms. Amelia was alive, she signed an agreement that when she leaves the world. Her heart to be donated." Dean collects a brown file from his table. "She wished, if not her, someone else would get a second chance in life." He forwards the envelope to the judge.

"Objection, your honor." The lawyer shouts, forgetting to use the mic instead.

Mrs. Agnes raised her eyebrows and spoke through the mic. "Objection sustained. Mr. Dean, you may have some good proof for Ms. Amelia. But, we are here for Mr. Dean's kidnapping case, not to solve something else. What are you trying to prove through this?"

The lawyer smirks and leans back comfortably in his chair.

Dean looks at his feet for a second. "Your honor. May I request to ask Mr. Raynott a few things?

Nathan stayed focused on the table, counting the lines of the wood. He looked at Dean as soon as Dean uttered his last name. His lips felt the tension between his teeth. His fingers tried to pull dirt from between each nail. They felt sharper with each passing day.

"Request granted," Mrs. Agnes replied while taking notes in the notes.

"Your honor, I got a voice recording that would play a vital role in this case. This was taken from Mr. Nathan Raynott's Emricon cabin. If you would allow me to play it."

Mrs. Agnes nodded her head with a frown. Now, what does this hold?

Nathan slumped against the chair with his cuffed hands. His gaze was warm as he watched Dean take a black tape recorder. His eyes turned bigger when he heard the recorder being played.

[Nathan, when will you grow up?]

The lawyer sat upright, fixing his tie.

[Are you still following the boy? What's wrong with you? I sent you away believing you would get over him and not continue being a disgrace to the family. Alas! I was wrong. I did all those to get rid of the boy.]

Dean stops the recording. "I wonder. Who is the boy being referred to here?" turning his gaze to Nathan. "Perhaps Mr. Raynott could help us."

All curious eyes turn to Nathan, whose shoulder slumps forward. He avoided their eyes, whispering. "The boy is Dean, and the person speaking is my father."

A couple of loud gasps were heard in the silent space. People murmured to one another, watching Nathan with a frown.

Dean turns back to the judge, heaving a deep breath. His index finger shivered on the play button of the recorder. "What are the things Mr. Raynott is speaking about?"

He steps towards Nathan. "Perhaps you are aware of it. If you could enlighten the court about it."

Nathan hesitates, his fists clenched together. His eyes wavering with realization. He understood; there's no going back now.

The lawyer clenched his jaws. He wasn't aware that such recordings were available. How about saying it's fabricated?

The lawyer widens his eyes with determination. He swiftly taps on the mic, "Your honor, the recording the plaintiff is showing to the court could be fabricated. We are aware of the current technology and how it's progressing to the extent that I can use Mr. Dean's voice and create a fake proof."

Mrs. Agnes nodded her head. "I would agree to that." She tilts her head to Dean. "Could you provide better and stronger proof, plaintiff?"

Dean lowered his gaze, his brow furrowing slightly as he shook his head. The weight of his thoughts seemed to pull him down, his shoulders slumping as if he were carrying an invisible burden.

The judge nodded her head. "I shall extend time, and the next hearing will be--"

"Your honor, I would like to tell you something." A hand raised among the crowd. The plaintiff and the lawyer turn their gaze as the crowd parts from the middle.

Alfie stood up. "I would like to say something."

The judge glanced at the lawyer and the plaintiff. "You may proceed."

Alfie sat in the witness seat. His eyes lingered on Nathan. The man didn't look at anyone.

"Your honor, I'll tell you everything. My name is Alfie. I'm Nathan's secretary and his long-time friend. We study in the same college. We were good friends. I used to admire his gentleness. I don't know when he changed so much," looking at Nathan, "that he forgot between right and wrong."

He looks down at his lap. "I testify that Nathan kidnapped Dean. It was all preplanned in my presence." Eyes searching to see any anger in Dean's calm demeanor.

However, he found nothing. "I apologize to Dean from the depth of my heart. Whatever has happened to Dean was all done by Nathan Raynott. He injected sleeping serum in Dean, bringing him to the outskirt mansion."

The courtroom looks at the man with shock. Surely, the man is courageous enough to speak and accept his sin. But, he's going against his friend.

"Nathan planned to marry Dean and keep him imprisoned there. Even Mr. Raynott, who is Nathan's father, agreed to it. He said to keep Dean with him as..."

The court decorum doesn't allow him to use vulgar language. However, people understood the meaning. "And, for the world, he will marry a girl."

Nathan gasped under his breath. He wiped his eyes with his cuffed hands. He grits his teeth to control himself. Yet, his lips wobbled, eyes straining to hold all the pain from his heart.

He knows he has lost the case as well as Dean long back. He knows what he did is wrong; he knows the path he chose to get it is incorrect. But, for the heart, everything is far from it: anything and everything only to breathe the same air as the one he loves.

"This is all I know, your honor. I've risked saying everything to you; I might get killed for betraying the Raynott family. But I wanted to get it over and start anew without the clock of guilt and worry on my shoulders."

Murmurs echoed in the courtroom, and Alfie returned to his original place. Eugene was quick to hold his hand and thread their fingers together. The assurance that whatever he did was okay with every stroke on his knuckles.

The judge looks at the lawyer. "Would you like to say anything in your defense?"

The lawyer stood up. However, Nathan held his hand, forcing the man to sit back.

The lawyer reluctantly lets out, "No, your honor."

The judge nodded her head. She picks up her pen with a chuckle. "Mr. Dean, if you don't mind, may I ask you something?" She looks at Dean through her reading glasses.

Dean nodded and stood up with respect. "You already have a person, an eye witness with you. Why didn't you give his name or call him in the first hearing?"

"Your honor, as you learned, Mr. Nathan and Mr. Alfie both hold a bond of friendship. I couldn't ask Mr. Alfie to speak since I knew they were friends. I didn't want two people to pull away from such a beautiful bond of friendship or hold anger toward one person to prove myself correct."

Alfie smiles hearing Dean. Even he would think, why wasn't Dean asking him to be the witness? However, he underestimated the man's thoughts. He is way beyond his thoughts. Perhaps Nathan did choose the right person for himself. But fate chose someone else for Dean.

Nathan dips his face lower and lower until he has broken wings on his back. His eyes betray him from holding the emotions together. The silent tears begin to trace paths down his cheeks, glistening in the fading light.

Alfie, feeling a rush of empathy, steps closer, ready to offer comfort to his friend, understanding that behind Dean's bravado lies a heart struggling with a heavy burden.

However, he cannot support wrong because his friend is on the other end.

"After listening to all the circumstances and hearing both the parties. I declare Mr. Nathan Raynot to be found guilty, and according to punishment code 605, abduction; punishment code 745, tampering or creating fake evidence; punishment code 455, hiding truth; he will be punished with imprisonment of 3 years and a fine worth 3500, and he must apologize to the victim and their family." She signed the paper.

"Along with this, I add Mr. Raynott, the founder of Emricon, to be arrested for hiding the incident and also for being involved in the murder case of Ms. Amelia Carter. I order the case officer to find all the evidence and speed up the process of finding all the characters involved in the case of Ms. Amelia."

She kept the pen back on the pen holder. "The case is closed, and the court is adjourned till lunch."

A hushed murmur spread through the courtroom as she gathered her papers, the weight of the revelations settling heavily on everyone present. Outside, reporters clamored for details, eager to uncover the truth behind the scandal that had shaken the community to its core.

In the courtroom, whispers grew louder, each person processing the verdict's implications. Ms. Amelia's fate hung in the balance, and as the gavel struck one final time, it marked not just the end of a trial but the beginning of a new chapter for those whose lives had been irrevocably altered.

Dean pressed his trembling fingers against his lips to steady the whirlwind of emotions coursing through him. An icy thrill raced through his veins, starkly contrasting the warmth he usually felt after a triumph.

The weight of disbelief hung heavily; he had truly won the case. Not only had he managed to secure Nathan's conviction, sending him to prison where he belonged, but he had also managed to breathe new life into the case of his donor, uncovering details long forgotten.

Each thought sent a shiver of exhilaration and relief coursing through him as the reality of his victory began to sink in.

His eyes find Nathan standing up, being pushed toward the exit. The man didn't utter a single word to defend himself. However, Dean knows who should stay behind bars and who should not.

"Good job, man. You did it! I'm so proud of you." Calder pats Dean's shoulders and moves away from him to see the call still connected.

He grins, pressing it to his ear. "Hey, bro—"

The call disconnected. He pressed his lips together, sighing to himself. "Can't you forgive him, bro?"

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

"Nonsense! How could this happen? I did everything to save my son. He even attempted to murder his lover. I don't understand; what is Dean made of? He stood in the court leaving his lover in the hospital!" Elder Raynott pushes every stationary item from his table onto the office floor.

He chose to be absent from his son Nathan's hearing, believing that it was essential to maintain the integrity of his company's reputation. To the public, it appeared he had completely abandoned his son, a decision he consciously made to avoid any negative publicity that might reflect poorly on his business.

Despite his physical absence, he took significant measures to ensure Nathan had the best possible representation; he hired a top-tier lawyer known for winning tough cases, ready to advocate fiercely for his son's interests.

But that young, tiny spark of hope. That yesterday's unknown Dean threw his son in dungeons.

"Get my son out of the jail! Get him out by hook or crook. I don't care about the money! How could Alfie betray my son!" Mr. Raynot spoke on the phone.

The secretary felt a shiver run down her spine as she heard his piercing shouts echoing through the phone.

Outside the building, the relentless media swarmed around Nathan like a pack of vultures, their cameras flashing and microphones thrust toward him, eager for his attention.

The police worked diligently to create a buffer between him and the throng, but the reporters were undeterred, pushing back against the officers with an insatiable hunger for information.

They bombarded Nathan with a barrage of invasive questions, probing into the deepest corners of his life—his sexuality, the struggles that had plagued him, the tumultuous relationship with his father, and every other aspect of his existence that they deemed worthy of exposure.

It was as if they were determined to strip him bare, to dissect his life and lay it open for all to see, leaving him feeling vulnerable and exposed, trapped in a media frenzy desperate to claw away at the fragments of his already fragile existence.

"I'll try, sir. I'm not sure, though. But you should be worried about yourself too." The secretary replied, carefully stepping down the court stairs.

Mr. Raynott raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

A firm knock echoed in the quiet office, and the door swung open to reveal Calder striding in confidently, flanked by his team. His presence filled the space with an air of authority.

Following closely behind him was Chris, his face alight with an exuberant grin that suggested he was in on a delightful secret, ready to share the excitement that seemed to buzz in the air.

"Officer Calder here. You are under arrest, Mr. Raynott, for murdering Amelia Carter."

Through the handcuff, Calder could see Mr. Raynott gulping with a sweaty forehead.

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