Vendetta

3. Fool's mate

"A good lawyer just like a good poker player, must always keep his cards close to his chest."— Mallika Nawal

Interpersonal conflicts shouldn't obstruct professionalism yet we forget what is most important.

I was on the edge of my seat; his intimate gestures made butterflies wild in my stomach. I was utterly and disgustingly flushed.

If this was one of his tactics then i must admit (shamefully), it was working very well. He seemed next to unaffected by whatever happened between us while i gyrated around the vortex of circumstances.

Get a grip, woman.

"The file contains two documents, the original has been inscribed by the Omertà. The second one is just a sophisticated imitation of legitimacy for business records," his formal cadence addressed the specifics, "you can leave after signing both the documents."

He handed the papers to me and I read them carefully, scanning every single world.

"Something wrong with your eyes?" He asked doubtfully.

"Your charisma makes it hard to focus," a varnishing smile met his own.

"Ah, yes I have that particular effect on women," his skeptic expression made it clear that he wasn't convinced by the forged compliment.

After a few procedures and intimidating glances, he handed me a copy of the counterfeit, for which I had no plausible use. Perhaps, a sturdy prompt if I found no other reason to cry.

It was nearing afternoon when I remembered the board meeting scheduled with my employees.

Within an hour, the meeting proceeded. There were a few who raised objections while most of them chose to support us in our crisis.

I was glad to have them by my side, it made me feel less weak. However, much burdened.

Presumably, i wasn't stalling at hostility as much as i would like to believe, but generosity was burdening, sometimes.

There were few emergency cases i had to attend, followed by customary medical rotations and a substantial amount of inescapable paperwork.

Days later after inner-conflict, I finally came into a conclusion to ask my friend to visit me for a 'special purpose' informations of which I managed not to disclose until she was present here, in flesh and blood.

"What is so important that I had to rush over?" Eleanor barged in.

"How typical," I sighed.

Eleanor Norman, a prosecutor not so well known by reason of the fact that she believes keeping low profile would only add more to her life expectancy. She is one of those individuals who you identify as calculative, manipulative and extremely difficult to handle.

For quite long, she has been digging deep to find testaments against criminal organizations in Germany. Unfortunately, I find myself to be in a very helpful position.

"Can you tell me why I was told to fill a medical form appertaining to 'occupational stress' counselling?"

I took the pain of telling her everything that had happened in the past two weeks; hence the significance of going 'under-cover',"

"and here I was upset thinking about how event less your life is," was her only assertion.

"I didn't want to drag you into this. Even so, if something's out of pattern then you'll receive a folder providing details about few testaments against The Morreti's. However, until then i can't grant an access."

"I understand that."

She was pensive for a good number of minutes. Then finally obliged, "how did you get your hands on the original document?"