Chapter 145: The Court Case VIII

Words : 1100 Updated : Oct 11th, 2025

Chapter 145: The Court Case VIII Fiona let out a sharp cry as a single brown loafer struck her squarely in the face. Right after that, the second piece, heavy with contempt, slammed into her chest, sending a wave of pain shooting through her. Her heart raced, thrumming with hurt and humiliation, and tears of rage welled in her eyes as the unpleasant odor of the shoe’s innards invaded her senses. The owner clearly hadn’t been wearing clean socks. The foul scent churned her stomach. Fiona cursed silently, grappling with the reality that her once-pristine reputation was rapidly disintegrating. Another shoe clattered against her arm, yet this one—an extravagant five-inch heel—was thrown with little accuracy; it merely grazed her. Fiona winced but felt a strange sense of relief mixed with anger. Had it struck her head or landed squarely in her chest, the injury could have been severe. "Anymore throwing of shoes will warrant this public gathering to be dispelled..." Elder Timothy’s voice cut through the chaos, but the mild tone he used barely resembled the sharp authority he wielded in previous threats. Fiona sneered. No one even stepped forward to apologize for the crowd’s misconduct—none of them wanted to. Ewan didn’t even offer her a glance, nor did her mother, who sat behind her. Fiona’s fists clenched as rage boiled within her. She felt as if the entire assembly had cast her into the muck, treating her like trash. She silently vowed to retaliate against each one of them, holding back the tears that threatened to spill over, all the while suffocating in the stench of her situation. She loathed dirt, hated being near it, and here she was, engulfed by it. And for what? Because she had eliminated their precious model? They should have advised the foolish bimbo to back off Ewan! How dare they be upset with her for taking control of her life? Didn’t they understand that life wasn’t fair? Whatever anyone wanted, they should seize it—by force, by any means necessary. Wasn’t that a maxim among the wealthy and powerful? So why were they casting scornful gazes in her direction? A wicked smile crept onto her lips as she pondered this absurdity. Athena thought herself so clever? She should wait then, and see what happened when the dust settled. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, Fiona sensed Morgan watching, a silent spectator to this unfolding drama. But for now, she cloaked her emotions behind a bland facade, sitting upright and staring boldly at Athena. "We need to wipe that arrogant look off her face! How dare she kill our beloved Lutanna?" One voice erupted from the crowd, igniting a chorus of outrage. "I don’t understand why the case is still dragging on! Someone should just call the police and haul her filthy self out of here!" "They should have let us throw more shoes at her. I don’t know why Elder Timothy has stopped us, even though I’m certain he wanted to join in!" "It’s Ewan I really feel sorry for, sleeping with a murderer," "It’s his fault for being so blind! They’ve known each other since childhood—how could he not have seen this coming?" "That’s just it; he wouldn’t see it. He’s wrapped in a cloak of nostalgia, thinking the evil woman is still that innocent little girl he grew up with. I hope he’s finally learned that people can change!" Ewan’s thoughts spun in chaotic disarray, the murmurs around him fading into a haze of black spots swirling in his vision. He was even straining to see where Athena stood, but his focus had ebbed, and his hands were trembling uncontrollably. Despite the physical discomfort engulfing him, he sensed the unremorseful energy radiating from Fiona and questioned his inability to recognize her manipulative nature sooner. He cursed himself and his naivety for ignoring his friends’ warnings, for brushing aside Athena’s credibility when she insisted Fiona was the mastermind behind the kidnapping. He jolted as Athena started speaking again, her voice cutting through his daze. "Please, my elders, I have a favor to ask..." "Go on..." Elder Timothy responded with eagerness, ready to ally with the woman he had tragically misjudged six years ago. It was becoming painfully apparent that the past had been a setup. He stole a sidelong glance at Alfonso, who appeared increasingly uncomfortable, and rightly so! "I implore you to allow Ewan to take a recess in the inner chambers. As his doctor, it’s time for his medications." Ewan’s jaw dropped in disbelief at Athena’s words. How had she known he was at his breaking point? He scoffed lightly, a bittersweet twist in his chest as he felt tears threaten to spill. This was the woman he had turned against, the one he had tried to ruin in court, yet here she was, graciously stepping in to support him. He heard Sandro and Zane exhale in relief when Elder Timothy promptly granted the request. Yet, how could he possibly stand with blood trickling from his nostrils? Seemingly reading his thoughts, Sandro rushed to his side, handing him a handkerchief. "Put this on your nose. Let’s go." Ewan obliged, his mind racing as Zane and Sandro escorted him through the row of seats into the inner chambers, trailed closely by two council officials. "How do you feel?" Sandro asked, supporting Ewan as he swallowed a pill and cleaned his nostrils. "I don’t know, Sandro. What do you think?" He replied, his voice betraying a hint of uncertainity. Sandro and Zane exchanged knowing glances. "You can’t say we didn’t warn you..." Zane began. "You just wouldn’t listen. Because Fiona saved you all those years ago, you clung to her words like they were gospel." "We aren’t even sure she is the one..." Sandro chimed in. Ewan fought the instinct to dispute Sandro’s claims, as before. There was no need to defend a murderer, not anymore. What if Athena was right about Fiona’s diagnosis? What if the latter hadn’t really rescued him all those years ago? A knock interrupted his spiraling thoughts, drawing their attention back to their surroundings. "The council is calling for you..." A voice announced from the other side of the door. "Why don’t you two head in first? I need a minute to gather myself," Ewan replied, prompting Sandro and Zane to exchange furtive glances before complying, leaving him momentarily alone. Once they were gone, Ewan pulled the pill bottle from his pocket and swallowed four more pills, desperate for clarity. He couldn’t allow himself to fumble—not in front of the entire assembly. If only he knew...

Chapter 145: The Court Case VIII

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