Chapter 369: Power Bitch

The most vivid memory Jack had of her was when she played a female MI6 agent in 007: Die Another Day. Upon closer thought, it seemed like she was also a villain in that role. 

At this moment, sitting in the defendant's seat was Mara Grayson. Whether or not she was attractive, just looking at her hairstyle, Jack could tell she wasn't one to be trifled with. Her sharp blonde hair cut abruptly at her jawline, its edge straight and rigid as if crafted by a guillotine.

In Western culture, women with this kind of haircut are often referred to as a "Power Bitch." While this term is typically translated as "strong woman," Jack preferred the literal translation: "Power Bitch."

Jack, Wesley, and reporter Angel Dupree arrived just in time. A child custody dispute between a divorced couple had just ended, and as they quietly sat in the last row of the gallery, Mara Grayson was taking her seat at the defendant's stand. 

Before sitting, she took a regal glance around the courtroom, as if she was about to sit on a queen's throne rather than the defendant's chair. 

In the plaintiff's seat sat a middle-aged man, visibly angry at the sight of Mara Grayson. After the judge permitted him to speak, he stood up, took a deep breath, and made an effort to calm himself before beginning his statement.

"Suzanne Mullins is my mother. I have the right to visit her at any time. She doesn't need to be in a nursing home, and she certainly doesn't need a court-appointed guardian. 

I'm her son, and I can take care of her. I don't understand how the court could entrust my mother to a stranger."

"And this woman—excuse me, Miss Grayson," the middle-aged man paused, gritting his teeth as he corrected himself, but the disdain in his eyes toward the defendant was unmistakable.

"Even after my mother clearly expressed her refusal, she was still forced into a nursing home. 

And now, Miss Grayson has sold my mother's house, her car, and her personal belongings, discarding anything she deemed unimportant. This even included some of my father's keepsakes, which my mother has cherished for 20 years."

"And then she used that money for her own expenses!" The middle-aged man grew more agitated, and flecks of spit flew from his mouth as he spoke.

Wesley nudged Jack with his elbow, whispering, "Pay attention to the judge and the defendant's expressions."

Jack didn't need the reminder. As a semi-expert in reading microexpressions, he had already taken in the whole scene. 

The judge, a chubby Black man, remained expressionless, but the way he rested his chin on two fingers conveyed his clear impatience.

As for Mara Grayson, though her back was turned to the trio, her occasional sidelong glances toward the plaintiff revealed a disdain that said it all.

The middle-aged man continued to vent his anger. "And now, Miss Grayson has completely prohibited me from visiting my mother. It's absurd! She's kidnapped my mother!"

"Sir, please watch your language and remain calm," the judge raised his hand, cutting off the plaintiff.

"Mara Grayson is a respected professional guardian, and since your mother is no longer capable of self-care, her appointment was made personally by this court and me."

The judge was interrupted by the middle-aged man, who passionately questioned, "Banning her own son from visiting is in her best interest? She doesn't care about my mother at all!"

"Oh man, he just lost his last chance," Wesley muttered as he noticed a flash of annoyance cross the judge's face. Dupree, the Black reporter, nodded in agreement.

"Excuse me, Your Honor, may I speak?" Mara Grayson raised her right hand, signaling her intent to talk.

The judge nodded. "Go ahead, Miss Grayson."

With an air of grace, Mara Grayson stood up and turned to face the middle-aged man.

"Mr. Feldstrom, I sympathize with you," she said, though the faint smirk at the corner of her lips hinted at mockery.

"But the court didn't entrust me with this responsibility for no reason. Your mother has long since been unable to care for herself."

"That's not true!" the middle-aged man tried to argue, but under the judge's stern gaze, he quickly fell silent.

Mara Grayson glanced at him, then turned back to the judge and continued. 

"The doctors have already diagnosed her with Alzheimer's, Mr. Feldstrom, and they provided legally valid testimony, recommending immediate measures to ensure her safety.

You had plenty of time to move her to a well-equipped nursing home or even bring her to your own home, but you did nothing."

"She didn't want to leave her home! She begged me not to take her away from the place where she lived for 50 years! She said she would die there."

Before he could finish, Mara Grayson cut him off.

"You can't care for her based on what she wants; you need to care for her based on what she needs. That's why I'm better suited than her family—because I have no personal stake in this."

Jack shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Now he understood why they didn't allow firearms in courtrooms.

Mara Grayson, however, continued speaking confidently.

"I only do what's truly best for your mother. So yes, I admit that I manage her assets because someone needs to. She's no longer capable of handling them herself.

And yes, I've sold some of her financial assets to cover her medical expenses. And finally, yes, I've also taken a necessary fee as my salary.

Because this is my job. This is my profession, Mr. Feldstrom."

"I think she should run for president!" Dupree, the Black reporter, muttered, unable to hide his face.

Mara Grayson kept talking as if she were delivering a closing argument, and the judge nodded along, like a dedicated actor playing his part.

"This is what I do every day, every hour. I care for those who need protection, safeguarding their dignity, keeping them from neglect, and guarding them from the harm caused by their own children."

"Hey! What are you talking about?" The middle-aged man was now furious.

"Order! Order!" The judge hammered his gavel repeatedly.

"Sir, if you continue, I'll have the court officers escort you to the holding cell."

Mara Grayson shot him a sidelong glance. "Mr. Feldstrom, we've been through this many times. I think we know each other well by now.

Your Honor, some children would rather see their parents go without proper care and suffer through illness than watch their inheritance be spent on necessary care."

Jack was stunned. He couldn't see her face but could hear the fake catch in her voice, and he saw the judge's eyes welling up with tears.

"I pity you, Mr. Feldstrom, I really do. But your visits upset your mother."

"I can't take it anymore. I think I'm going to throw up."

Jack got up and quickly left the courtroom. Wesley and Dupree stayed a few minutes longer, waiting for the judge's verdict before leisurely walking out. 

As expected, the middle-aged man lost the case. The judge upheld the original ruling, and Mara Grayson retained guardianship over his mother.

"This is ridiculous!"

Dupree, the first person Jack had met who spoke with a bit of a rap cadence, was still irritated, even though he had deliberately slowed down his speech.

"I'm taking this case. We need to show this proud bitch some consequences."

Jack looked at Wesley, who shrugged. "It'll be tough to win through legal means, but not impossible. I'll need some help, though. It might come with a bit of legal risk."

[Check out my Patreon for +200 additional chapters in all my fanfics! Only $5 per novel or $15 for all!!] [www.p@treon.com/Mutter]

[+50 Power Stones = +1 Extra Chapter]

[+5 Reviews = +1 Extra Chapter]