Chapter 2 Trauma

Ivana tossed and turned in her bed, whimpering in her sleep. Her voice was barely audible as tiny beads of sweat formed on her forehead.

"Help...help me..." She murmured, her words laced with desperation.

Suddenly, her eyes snapped open, and she sat up gasping for air. Her breathing was heavy as she struggled to catch her breath. She quickly turned on the lamp beside her, as if trying to shake off the remnants of the nightmare.

As she gazed at the wall clock, she saw it was 4:30 AM. With a deep sigh, she tossed off the duvet and got out of bed, heading for the bathroom.

She flipped on the light, cupped her hands under the faucet and splashed water onto her face. The cool liquid brought temporary relief as she stared at her reflection, her eyes almost red from the nightmare.

"When will this end?" She sighed, biting down on her lower lip.

Her gaze drifted to one of the cupboards and she opened it, revealing a bottle of medication. She popped two pills into her mouth and headed back to her room for a glass of water.

After swallowing the pills, she sat on the edge of her bed, her shoulders slumped in exhaustion. As she pushed her black shoulder length hair back, a notification popped up on her phone: 'Mom's death anniversary'. For a while, she simply sat, staring into space. When the clock struck at 5:00, she got up, trying to get ready for the day.

Ivana left for her mother's grave and when she arrived, she dropped a bouquet of fresh white roses. As she stared at the name on the gravestone, a faint smile formed on her face.

"I'm here, mom." she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I brought you flowers today; I didn't forget." she squatted, running her hands over the gravestone. "How have you been? I miss you."

Just as she was lost in the silence, her phone rang shattering the moment. Sighing, Ivana answered, "I told you that I have today off!" she snapped. "What is it?"

"My apologies, ma'am." The caller said.

Ivana pulled the phone away from her ear, took a deep breath and placed it back on. "Did something happen?" she asked, her voice calmer than before.

"Yes, there is a strange man here who wants to speak with you. I told him that you're unavailable today, but he's refusing to leave and is adamant about speaking with you," the caller said.

Ivana sighed, wondering who it was that wanted to speak with her. The thought alone angered her deeply. Today was the most sensitive day of her life; she hated dealing with men on a regular basis, but today was especially worse, she wanted nothing to do with them.

"Ms. Anderson, are you there?" the caller asked, snapping Ivana out of her reverie.

Ivana nodded, though she knew the caller couldn't see her. "Yes, I'll be right there. Until then, keep an eye on him." she said, turning away from her mother's gravestone with one last glance.

When Ivana arrived at her workplace, she was surprised to see the 2023 Bentley flying spur parked right in front of the entrance.

"Ms. Anderson." One of her associates called the moment she walked in, causing the rest of the workers to pause and look up from their work.

Shortly after, a young man in his mid 30s approached Ivana. His 6.2 foot frame and masculine build commanded attention, and his caesar haircut and sleek black suit exuded confidence.

"Ms. Anderson," he said, extending his hand. "I'm Greg Taylor."

However, Ivana's gaze didn't meet his eyes; instead it fixated on his hands specifically the knuckle tattoos that adorned his fingers. As usual, she didn't take his hand, but the knuckle tattoos sickened her even more.

Greg seemed to notice the distaste on her face. "Don't worry, they are temporary tattoos." He clarified with a hint of amusement.

When Ivana remained silent, Greg asked, "Shall we discuss in your office?"

Ivana shot him a glare. "It's common sense to leave when the person you're looking for isn't available, isn't that so?" her voice was firm, her words dripping with annoyance.

Greg's eyebrows rose in surprise, but he quickly regained his composure, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "My apologies, Ms. Anderson. it's really urgent, which is why I couldn't leave."

He remained silent for a few seconds, watching Ivana's gaze soften, before saying. "I want you to take on a case."

Ivana sighed tiredly. "Interesting..." she said, pushing her hair back. "Today is my day off; we should talk about it tomorrow, Mr. Taylor."

When she turned to leave, Greg blocked her path, stopping her from leaving. Ivana slowly lifted her gaze from the floor to his face. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice laced with annoyance.

Greg hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I heard you charge $10,000 per client because you're the best at what you do."

One of the associates chimed in, "She's been nominated as Attorney of the Month and has never lost a case. Of course, she's good at her job." Ivana glared at the associate, who apologized and focused on her work.

"I am willing to pay $50,000 if you'll take on the case," Greg said, his words laced with desperation."

Ivana remained quiet, her silence heightening the tension in her office, and her expression unreadable. Her associates stopped working, watching them both wonder if she'd take the case.

"I need to see my client first." she said, surprising everyone.

Greg's eyes narrowed slightly, his expression a mix of curiosity and relief. He hadn't expected her to agree so easily, given her previous behaviour.

"I'll take you there." he said, leading her to the 2023 Bentley flying spur parked outside. He gestured for her to enter, and she did.

When they arrived at the prison waiting room, a young man was brought in by one of the prison wardens. He wasn't cuffed, and sat comfortably in front of her.

"Is she the one?" he prisoner asked, turning to Greg who was standing behind him, and Greg simply nodded.

Ivana picked up the file on the desk, flipped it open, and scanned the contents. The headline read: "Death in the course of escaping sexual assault."

"Pathetic!" She scoffed, closing the file and pushing it aside.

The prisoner furrowed his brows. 'Did you just call me pathetic?' he asked, his tone laced with annoyance.

Ivana leaned closer, her hands resting on the desk between them. "I have one question, and you need to be honest if you want to get out of here," she warned. He rolled his eyes. "Did you kill her?" she asked, her gaze locked on his."

Sighing, he leaned back in his chair. "No, I didn't kill her. We agreed to spend the night together, and I paid her, but she wouldn't let me touch her." he explained, running his hands through his hair.

"She was desperate for the money, but didn't want to pay the price for it." he added in a low voice, his laughter manic.

When Ivana remained silent, he licked his lips and gestured to the bandage on his neck. "See this? That bitch cut me with a bread knife and ran out of the room. When I chased after her, she was already at the bottom of the stairs, lying in her own blood."

Ivana clenched her fist, struggling to contain her anger. "So she died trying to escape from you?" she asked, her voice laced with disgust.

The prisoner shrugged. "Well, you could say that..." he said, nodding in agreement with his own words. "But the truth is, I didn't kill her. Her own stupidity took her life. And honestly, I think she was mentally unstable."

Ivana sighed, wondering why she had to deal with such a foolish man on a day like today. "I see..." she said in a low, clear voice, leaning forward. "But too bad, I don't defend killers." she whispered in his face.

"Killer?" The prisoner frowned. "Did you just call me a killer?" he asked, unable to believe his ears.

Ivana's slow chuckle was menacing, "Yes, I did. Why? Are you going to kill me too?"

The prisoner frown deepened. "Watch your mouth, Miss lawyer," he warned, his eyes flashing with anger.

"You killed her!" Ivana yelled in his face, taking him by surprise. "What did she do wrong?" she slammed her hand on the desk, her breathing heavy.

She pushed her hair back, closed her eyes briefly, and reopened them to compose herself. "I can't believe I wasted my time talking to you. You deserve to spend the rest of your life in prison." she concluded.

The man's expression turned confused. "What do you mean by that? Aren't you representing me in court?" he asked, clearly perplexed.

"Why should I?" Ivana turned to Greg. "I refuse to take on this case."

"Who do you think you are to treat me like this? You are a lawyer, act like one. Take the goddamn money and get me out of here!" the prisoner yelled.

Ivana turned to leave, but Greg blocked her path. "You really have no manners, do you?" she shot him a warning glare. "Get out of my way."

"You agreed to take on this case." Greg countered, ignoring her glare.

Ivana folded her hands across her chest. "Then bring me the document that stated our agreement." she demanded, causing him to step aside.

She gave him one final glare before striding towards the exit. However, before she could finally leave, she turned to the prisoner. "I do wish you a long, happy, healthy life in prison." she said with a smile, and walked out of the waiting room.