Legally bound

"Counsel, you seem a bit offshore. This is the third time I've had to call your attention back. I'm forced to adjourn this case until a later date."

  The judge's words thundered in Alex's head as the gavel struck the bench, the sharp crack echoing through the silent courtroom. His eyes followed the judge until he disappeared through the door. Then, as if every ounce of strength had been drained from him, Alex sank into his seat. His vision blurred as tears welled up and slid down his cheeks. He knew the judge would've dismissed the case and ruled in his opponent's favor if not for who he was.

  From across the room, his father, Mr. Cromwell, managing partner of one of New York's most powerful law firms, strode toward him. He stopped beside Alex, leaned in, and whispered firmly, "Get your game together, son." This was one of the biggest cases they'd had and with the sudden spiral in the firm he couldn't afford to mess things up but he just couldn't help it.

  Without another glance, he turned and walked out, his personal assistant trailing behind. 

  When the last footsteps faded, Alex was left alone with the echo of his own thoughts. His world felt like it was collapsing in on itself. The words that had haunted him for weeks erupted in his mind once again:

  "The choice is yours, Alex. Find my daughter and bring her to me and I'll sign the deal. If not, the offer's off the table."

  Ever since that conversation with Ray Smith, the owner of New York's largest IT firm, Alex hadn't been able to think straight. This was the fourth case he had lost focus on, the fourth time his career had suffered because of a deal that had nothing to do with the law... and everything to do with his heart.

  He finally stood, straightened his tie, and took slow steps toward the exit. Outside, the cool afternoon breeze brushed against his face as he unlocked his sleek 2025 Lexus LX. He slid into the leather seat and started the engine, the soft hum offering a strange kind of comfort. Without thinking twice, he drove to his favorite bar on the east side of town.

  When he stepped out, his black Brunello Cucinelli suit caught the faint sunlight, and his John Fluevog shoes clicked confidently against the pavement. Heads turned. He could hear the low murmurs as he entered, subtle 'oohs' rippling through the bar. Everyone knew who he was: The Alex Cromwell, one of New York's finest attorneys.

  He hated the attention. Normally, he would have slipped into his private lounge at the back,his quiet refuge, but it only opened at night. Since he couldn't bear to be anywhere else, he decided to endure the stares. He kept his head low and walked to a seat tucked away in the farthest corner, ordering his usual drink.

  As he waited, his phone buzzed. The name that flashed on the screen