Chapter 8 : Final Arguments & The Decision

The courthouse loomed ahead. Today was the big day.

As I stepped inside, I felt lighter. Stronger.

Win or lose, I had done my part. I stood up to Richardson. I had told my father's story. I made sure people heard the truth.

Gabriel walked next to me, briefcase in hand. "You ready?" he asked.

I looked at him. "More than ever," I replied.

We entered the courtroom.

Today was the day we'd make our last argument. After this, we'd know the verdict.

The room was filled with tension. Every breath felt heavy. It was like the air buzzed with energy.

I glanced at Richardson. His usual calm was cracking. His fingers drummed nervously on the table. His jaw was tight. He knew he was losing control.

Gabriel stood up first.

"Your Honor, members of the jury," he said, his voice steady. "This case isn't just about money. It's about justice."

He paused to let that sink in.

"You've heard from Emily Smithson, a daughter who watched her father's work fall apart because of a dishonest businessman. You've seen the records. You've seen the emails calling John Smithson a 'problem.' Now, we have proof from an insider that backs up what we've thought all along."

Gabriel turned to the jury.

"This wasn't just a business failure. This was a planned attack to get rid of a competitor. Richardson Bank didn't just ignore John Smithson; they set him up to fail."

He stepped closer, his voice strong.

"They took everything from him. His business, his home, and ultimately, his life."

Tears filled my eyes.

"My client, Emily Smithson, is not here for revenge. She wants the man who hurt her father to face the truth."

Gabriel faced the jury, his final words sharp and clear.

"If this isn't injustice, then what is?"

With that, he returned to his seat.

Silence hung in the air.

Then, Johnson stood up.

He adjusted his tie and took a slow breath. I could sense he was shaken, but he hid it well.

He walked toward the jury, hands clasped, feigning calm.

"Ladies and gentlemen, take a moment. Strip away the emotion from this case."

He paused for effect.

"Yes, John Smithson faced hard times. Yes, he lost his business. But let's focus on the facts. He took loans. He agreed to the terms. He fell behind on payments. That's not corruption; that's just how business goes."

He began to pace.

"My client, Mr. Richardson, is a businessman. Did he compete with Smithson News? Yes. But in business, competition is normal. If we start punishing successful people for just doing their jobs, where does it end?"

He turned to the jury, lowering his voice.

"You see a grieving daughter. A woman who has faced a lot. But I urge you to ask yourselves: are we making choices based on facts or feelings?"

He leaned in slightly. "If we let feelings take over, we risk punishing someone innocent for simply running a business."

He smoothed his jacket.

"The law follows proof, not feelings."

He nodded at the judge.

"No further statements."

Johnson took his seat.

A heavy silence filled the courtroom.

The judge faced the jury. "You may now deliberate. Court will reconvene when you have a verdict."

I barely heard her words. My heart raced.

As the jury exited, Gabriel placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "They know the truth, Emily. That's all we can do."

I nodded, but my stomach churned.

Minutes stretched into hours. The courtroom emptied, but soon people came back as news of a verdict spread.

Then, the door creaked open.

The jury was back.

"All rise," the bailiff called as the judge entered.

I stood, knees shaking. This was it.

The jury foreman, a sharp-eyed woman, stood with a folded paper.

"Has the jury reached a verdict?" the judge asked.

"We have, Your Honor," she replied.

My hands tightened into fists.

The foreman cleared her throat. "In the case of Smithson News vs. Richardson Bank, we find the defendant, Mr. Charles Richardson…"

A pause.

I held my breath.

"Guilty."

Gasps filled the courtroom.

I sagged in relief. Gabriel's hand tightened on my shoulder in victory.

The judge nodded. "And regarding damages?"

"We award the plaintiff, Ms. Emily Smithson, five hundred million dollars."

My heart raced. We won!

The judge turned to Richardson. "Mr. Richardson, this court finds you guilty of predatory lending and fraud. This verdict serves as justice for the victim and a warning to others. Court is adjourned."

The gavel slammed down.

It was final.

We won.

For a moment, I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. The words "Richardson Bank must pay $500 million" echoed in my mind until they clicked.

A rush of emotions hit me: relief, triumph, exhaustion.

Gabriel squeezed my arm gently. "Emily… we did it."

I turned to him, my vision blurry with tears. "We did."

Reporters scrambled. Whispers filled the room. But I didn't notice.

My eyes shifted to Richardson.

He sat there, pale and still. His hands gripped the table like he was losing something he could never hold onto. He had lost.

For years, he controlled so much. He ruined my father and took away his dreams.

But today, justice was served.

Richardson's lawyer whispered urgently to him, but it didn't matter.

The fight was over.

Gabriel shook my hand firmly. "Justice, Emily."

I nodded, tears brimming. Justice.

As I walked out of that courtroom, the weight I carried for so long lifted.

My father was gone, but his story was heard. His fight wasn't in vain.

And for the first time in ages, I felt free.

As soon as we stepped outside, the cameras went off like fireworks. Reporters were yelling my name from every direction.

"Emily, how do you feel about today's decision?"

"Do you think this will change banks?"

"What are you going to do next?"

My throat got tight. I wasn't used to all this attention.

Gabriel, always calm, stepped up. "Ms. Smithson won't be giving a statement right now. Thank you."

He led me away from the chaos and to his car.

"Are you okay?" he asked when we got in.

I let out a nervous laugh. "I don't know. It doesn't feel real."

He smiled at me. "It will."

As the car drove away, I looked back at the courthouse one last time.

For years, it was a symbol of the system that had let my father down.

But today, it meant something different.

Today, it meant justice.

Later that night, I stood in my kitchen under a single lamp. The quiet was almost too much.

For the first time in ages, there was no upcoming court date. No stress about the trial.

It was finally over.

I pulled out a framed photo from my bag. It was of my dad at his desk at Smithson News, smiling as he read the latest edition. Before everything changed.

I ran my fingers along the frame, feeling my chest tighten.

"Dad… we won." My voice shook. "I hope you're proud."

I remembered the tough times I had while taking care of my parents, the odd jobs I did, and the social life I gave up. Memories of Alexander rushed back, both the good times and the hurt. Tears flowed down my cheeks as I thought about my journey. I always tried to be kind, but life had been tough.

A tear rolled down my face. But this time, it was different. This time, it was a tear of peace.

For the first time in a long time…

I felt relief.

Just then, a knock on my door pulled me from my thoughts.

I quickly wiped away my tears and took a deep breath before opening the door. There stood Gabriel, smiling at me. He handed me a rose, and I stepped forward to hug him. His warm presence helped calm me down.

Gabriel saw that I was still emotional. He took my hand and looked right into my eyes. "I know you've been through a lot. You don't have to carry that weight anymore. The future is bright, and I'm here with you." He said.

His words eased my heart a bit, and I felt a flutter of attraction. I didn't want to get too carried away, but there was something special about Gabriel. He had been there for me during tough times and had really helped me see the good in life again.

We shared a passionate kiss, and for the first time in a long while, I felt truly alive. When he pulled back, he whispered, I never want to hurt you. I'm sorry. I believed him. Then, as if he knew just what I needed, he handed me a small box. Inside, on soft fabric, was a tiny puppy with big, curious eyes. I gasped. Since my last dog had passed, I had felt so lonely. This little one brought me so much joy.

As I hugged the puppy, Gabriel wrapped his arms around us. I felt loved again and kissed him. "I don't want to see you cry." He said. "I'm here to make you happy."

We started dating, and Gabriel told me I should use my $500 million settlement to take care of myself. He even suggested using some of it to start my own newspaper publishing company, something that would make my dad proud. I thought that was a great idea.