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3rd Person POV
The Manhattan morning was sharp with autumn air, sunlight bouncing off the steel and glass of the skyscrapers as Liam's bike pulled into Worth Street.
The Manhattan Criminal Court loomed ahead—an austere gray slab of concrete and glass, squared columns rising like the teeth of some great bureaucratic beast.
The building wasn't beautiful, not like the old courthouses that looked like cathedrals of law, but it radiated authority.
Its marble steps were wide, its doors guarded by security checkpoints, and its façade announced in bold lettering: Criminal Court of the City of New York.
Liam slowed, pulled into the designated bike parking, and swung his leg over the seat.
His HUD flickered briefly in his vision, showing him the map, time, his schedule, and a reminder that the dismissal hearing was set for 10:00 a.m.
He had more than enough time, but he wasn't here for comfort.
He was here to win.
At the foot of the courthouse steps, a small gaggle of reporters had already gathered.
Cameras flashed, microphones bristled like spears, and at the center of their attention stood Marcus Hale.
Hale was dressed like he always tried to be seen: the slick, wronged celebrity.
He wore a designer charcoal-gray suit, silk tie in an obnoxious red shade, and sunglasses that did nothing to hide the arrogance radiating off him.
He gestured with theatrical despair as reporters threw questions
"This is a witch hunt!" Hale barked, lifting his hands.
"I've been targeted, framed by people who envy my success. You all know me—I've given back to this city, funded charities, opened businesses, and this is how they repay me? Lies and setups!"
Standing beside him was his lawyer.
The man's name was Gregory Stone, and unlike Hale, there was nothing desperate in his presentation.
Stone was in his late 30s, tall, broad-shouldered, with neatly combed black hair that gleamed under the sunlight.
His suit was bespoke—dark navy with a faint pinstripe, cut perfectly to his athletic frame. His tie was silver, his watch an understated Patek Philippe.
He had the kind of face that showed power to the cameras. Sharp jawline, dark eyes that smirked even when his lips didn't. Everything about him radiated confidence.
Stone wasn't just a lawyer—he was a partner at Bratton Gould, one of the most feared and respected law firms in New York. A predator in a world full of prey.
Stone raised his hand and the press quieted like obedient children. His voice was calm, measured, confident:
"My client, Marcus Hale, is the victim of a malicious plot. We will demonstrate today that these charges lack any factual basis and evidence. This entire case should never have been filed, and the District Attorney's office should be ashamed for indulging in such reckless prosecution. Not only will we secure dismissal, but we are preparing to file for damages. Mr. Hale's reputation has been dragged through the mud by unfounded accusations, and we intend to restore it fully."
The reporters lapped it up. Hale puffed out his chest, nodding like a man already vindicated. Stone placed a steadying hand on his client's shoulder, his polished smile never faltering.
Liam approached from the side, intending to walk past them into the courthouse. He wasn't interested in the pre-show but a sharp-eyed reporter spotted him.
"There!" she shouted, raising her microphone. "Mr. Harper!"
Heads turned. Cameras swiveled. Hale's smug grin widened as he, too, spotted Liam but the young prosecutor looked calm, too calm.
The reporter hurried forward, her cameraman scrambling to follow. She was in her late 20s, brunette hair tied back, and hungry for a story. She thrust the mic forward.
"Mr. Harper," she said breathlessly, "you're the prosecutor in Mr. Hale's case, correct? Care to give a comment about today's hearing?"
Liam slowed but didn't stop walking. His HUD glowed faintly as he scanned the situation. Eve's voice cut in:
[Careful. They want a soundbite they can twist.]
The reporter pressed on. "It's been noted you're just out of law school, and yet you've been assigned as first chair in such a high-profile case. Isn't that unusual? Doesn't it suggest this case is weak and the DA's office just threw it at someone expendable?"
The press chuckled lightly at her jab. Hale laughed outright, and Stone's smirk deepened.
Liam stopped. He turned to face the reporter directly, his expression composed, his voice clear
"Yes, I'm just out of law school but what matters in any case isn't the age or résumé of the prosecutor. It's the facts, the law, and the pursuit of justice. The District Attorney Mr.Dennis trusted my talent enough to assign me this case, and I intend to prove that trust was well placed. Justice will be served."
It was a clean answer—calm, polished, unshaken.
Cameras clicked in rapid fire.
Hale snorted.
Stone leaned down to whisper something to his client, and both of them chuckled darkly, like wolves who thought they'd already eaten their prey.
Eve's voice was a whisper of amusement in Liam's ear [Can't wait to see their faces when they realize they're already finished.]
Liam gave the press one last polite smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me—it's getting late."
And with that, he walked past them, climbed the courthouse steps, and disappeared through the heavy glass doors.
Inside the Courthouse
Security was tight, as always.
Liam placed his bag on the conveyor belt, walked through the metal detector, flashed his DA badge, and continued forward.
The hallways of the courthouse were busy but orderly—lawyers, clerks, and defendants moving briskly in all directions.
He took the elevator up to the second floor. His HUD displayed the room number:Courtroom 2B.
The hall smelled faintly of floor polish.
Liam entered. The courtroom was modest but formal.
Wooden pews for the gallery, polished tables for prosecution and defense, and the raised bench where the judge would preside.
For now, the room was half-empty. Liam took a seat in the gallery, setting his bag beside him.
Moments later, Hale entered with Gregory Stone at his side.
Hale looked smug, waving at a few people like he was still at a premiere.
Stone carried himself like a man walking into a boardroom he already owned. When their eyes found Liam, both men smirked.
Stone walked over, leaning slightly against the railing beside Liam.
"Do yourself a favor, kid," Stone said softly, his voice smooth but laced with venom. "Drop the case and save yourself the humiliation. This is way out of your league."
Liam's lips curved into a small, calm smile but said nothing.
Stone's eyes narrowed, then he chuckled and shook his head. "Suit yourself."
He returned to Hale and sat with him on the defense side of the gallery.
The door opened again.
Detective Raymond Cross and Officer Daniel Ruiz entered and both men looked uneasy, their faces stiff. They spotted Liam and walked over.
"What's up?" Liam asked quietly.
Cross shook his head. "We just came because… well, this case, it's going to ruin us. Our reputations, our careers. We know there's nothing to be done."
Ruiz added, "We just wanted you to know it's fine if… if it collapses. We've already accepted it."
Liam smiled faintly. "You're in for a surprise."
The detectives exchanged glances, unsure what to make of that. Maybe Liam had some trick to buy time? They didn't want to disturb him further, so they nodded and went to sit in the back of the gallery.
Quietly resigned.
Court in Session
The clerk stepped forward. "Court is now in session. The People of the State of New York versus Marcus Hale."
Liam rose, buttoned his suit jacket, and walked to the prosecution table. Across from him, Stone and Hale took their seats on the defense side.
The judge entered.
Judge William Harrington, a man in his mid-40s with close-cropped hair and rimless glasses.
His black robe hung neatly, and his face was one of discipline and control.
Liam had already done his homework—Harrington was known for being a man of facts, evidence, and nothing else. No theatrics, no politics.
Exactly what Liam needed.
"Counselors," Judge Harrington began, "we're here for a motion hearing regarding dismissal of charges against Mr. Marcus Hale. Let's proceed. Mr. Stone, you may begin."
Stone rose with confidence. His voice filled the room
"Your Honor, my client is innocent. This case is nothing more than a malicious attempt by competitors to frame him. This prosecution has already caused irreparable harm to Mr. Hale's reputation, and it must be stopped now. We respectfully request immediate dismissal of all charges."
He sat down, smug satisfaction on his face.
Judge Harrington turned to Liam. "Mr. Harper? Your response?"
Liam stood. He spoke clearly, evenly.
"Your Honor, the People contend that the charges are supported by both direct and circumstantial evidence. Allow me to present the facts." And then he began to lay out
"Mr.Hale was stopped for reckless driving"
Liam handed the clerk a flash drive. "Here is the traffic camera video confirming the reckless driving."
Next, he gave another flash drive and continued "Detective Cross and Officer Ruiz confirmed Mr.Hale was under the influence. Body cam footage confirms their account, including the discovery of cocaine in his vehicle."
Stone's immediately rose. "Objection! That cocaine was planted. The prosecution cannot prove it belonged to Mr. Hale."
Liam didn't argue.
He simply nodded, as though expecting that response.
Then he reached into his bag. He pulled out two folders.
Calmly, he handed one to the clerk, who delivered it to the judge, and the other he placed directly in front of Stone and Hale.
Inside were photographs—clear stills from a security camera across the street.
The images showed Hale in his car, window rolled down, hand outstretched. In his grip, a bag of cocaine.
Across from him, another man, a known street dealer.
The transformation was instant. Hale's smugness evaporated. His face went pale and Stone's jaw tightened, his smirk was gone as he stared at the undeniable evidence.
Liam's voice remained calm and continued "These are verified stills from a private security camera across from the location where the transaction occurred. The footage has been authenticated by a lab to confirm no tampering. The vehicle is indisputably Mr. Hale's. The individual reaching from the driver's seat is clearly Mr. Hale. The man providing the narcotics is a long-time dealer with an extensive record."
In the back, Cross and Ruiz exchanged stunned looks.
Liam handed over another file, this one containing the dealer's mugshot and rap sheet.
Finally, Liam placed another flash drive on the clerk's desk.
"This contains traffic camera footage showing Mr. Hale leaving the blind spot where the transaction occurred and continuing directly until his arrest. This completes the chain of evidence."
He turned back to the judge.
"The People respectfully request that Mr. Hale be charged with DUI, possession of cocaine, and intent to distribute."
Silence.
Stone stared at the photographs like he could will them to disappear.
Hale shifted in his seat, sweat forming at his temple. The defense table had gone cold.
In the back, Cross and Ruiz sat frozen. They couldn't fathom how Liam had produced what they themselves hadn't been able to find.
Judge Harrington reviewed the files, his expression unreadable. Finally, he spoke
"The motion to dismiss is denied. This case will proceed to trial. Jury selection begins tomorrow."
The trial date was set for twenty days from now.
The gavel banged.
-----END-----
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