Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 52699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
DAMIEN
Several Years Ago…
Ihated living in Sonny Caps Condos.
The building was falling apart at the seams, and whenever the family upstairs took a bath, the water dripped through my ceiling.
I’d never known my biological mother, but I liked to pretend that she would’ve never let me and my siblings live in a filthy place like this.
She probably wouldn’t let me go to bed hungry, either.
Rolling off my poor excuse for a mattress, I put on my tennis shoes and a jacket. The cafe owner across the street always left a grilled cheese sandwich out for me, and I’d been thinking about it all day.
Opening the door, I came face to face with a wall of smoke.
Assuming my foster mother had accidentally burned something, I raced to the kitchen.
Flames were licking the oven, cracking and hissing from the floor above.
What the…
“Help! Helpppp! Help!” my younger brother Bryan’s voice came from down the hall.
“My bedroom door won’t budge!” My foster mother’s voice came next, and then I heard more screams.
Turning around, I raced toward their side of the apartment, but the fire walls were far too high.
“Bryan!” I called out for him. “Bryan, break a window and get the fuck out!”
“Damien!” His scream was far weaker that time. “Damien, help me!”
I covered my mouth with my jacket sleeve and held my breath. I tried to open the bathroom door to see if I could get to him that way, but the knob was too hot.
Refusing to give up, I kicked at the door as hard as I could.
Nothing gave.
The heat began searing my back, and I wasn’t hearing any more screams.
There was only a faint cry from the living room.
Michelle?
Rushing down the hall, I picked up the newborn baby my foster mother took in weeks ago and carried her into the hallway. Through the smoke, I ran down the emergency stairwell and into an alley.
Fire trucks blared their sirens from afar, but as I looked up at the flames choking the top levels of the building, I knew that they were already far too late.
Too stunned to move, I watched the scene unfold in slow motion. Someone grabbed me from behind and pushed me out of the way.
I kept Michelle close to my chest, and an explosion sounded from inside the building.
The cries erupted from my throat before I could fully process them.
Gone.
Everyone in that building was fucking gone.
As cops swarmed the area, something told me not to approach them and say I’d gotten out.
Michelle and I were better off walking away.
My brain was still replaying Brian’s screams, and my heart was shattering with every step.
He’s the only real family I had…
Lost in a haze, I carried Michelle for several blocks, debating our next best move.
I had no money, no true family ties, nothing.
There was no way I could care for Michelle on my own, but there was no way in hell I was turning my back on her.
Upon reaching a fire station, I tucked her into a safe haven box.
“I’ll find a way to come back and take care of you, Michelle.” I kissed her forehead. “I promise.”
* * *
After graduating from law school
The only good thing about graduating first in my Harvard class was a promised part-time position that I could check in and out of at any time. Well, it was more like having the “privilege” of being an errand lackey at an established firm.
Bowles & Bushman was flush with the top lawyers from around the country long before my arrival. Whenever I wasn’t getting coffee or taking notes for my superiors, I was using their resources to research what had caused the fire that wrecked my life.
Every late-night session that ended with ‘landlord hero honored years later for rescuing pets,” “landlord receives continued community support,” and “landlord receives multi-million dollar payout” only made me question why no one was looking in his direction.
“Are you Damien?” A gruff voice that belonged to a fellow lawyer made me look up from my notes.
“Yes.” I picked up an envelope and handed it to him. “Here’s what I found on your client.”
“Is anything missing?”
“Of course not,” I said. “That’ll five hundred dollars.”
“Perfect.” He handed me a check, and I immediately took it to the bank; I deposited it into an account I had set up for Michelle long ago.
I wanted her to be set for life by her eighteenth birthday, never to have to rely on anyone for a goddamn thing, but only six thousand dollars was saved so far.
That’s not enough.
It took me a few more months to figure out a better way to make money: defrauding lawyers.
They’d do anything to avoid the courtroom if they weren’t getting paid, and I needed to scam the wealthy ones to succeed.
My mark today was destined to be my biggest yet: Andrew Hamilton.
Years removed from his legendary case against the government and fresh off a short stint at a firm in North Carolina, he’d returned here to start his own firm.