BEAUTIFUL DOOM (part 1)

Nine years ago—actually, ten—I shot myself in the leg when I broke the ethics of my profession and slept with a client. Now, he’s found out about his son and is ready to wipe the floor with me to have him and punish me for "hurting" him. (Snorts) Yeah. Right. Like I'm gonna let that happen. Not again. Got some opinions and judgments of your own? I know, but hear me out first. About ten years ago, I was a young attorney working my way up the ladder in my cutthroat law firm; Akpabio & Lawson Partners. Scratch that. I was a badass in my department; family Law. I was living a baby girl’s dream, and my life couldn’t have been more perfect. Until one day, Mr Lawson, our senior partner, dropped a case on my lap. “It’s an easy case,” he said to me. “I need you to handle it ASAP because this client is an impatient man. He needs this fast and seamless.” I was due for a promotion to a senior associate if I closed this case, so I took it. Not that I had many options. “I’ll work my magic,” I told her. “Easy peasy.” Except there wasn’t anything easy-peasy about that case. Till this day, it remains the most complicated divorce case I’ve ever handled. Just so I don’t bore you with the details, I’m going to give you a sneaky peek into the case. My client, Mr Kareem Ali Odumasun, a well-known and respected business tycoon in the country, was divorcing his wife after seven years of marriage. The basis? Infidelity. Their only son, it turned out, was the product of his wife’s affair. He never knew until the child’s biological father came into the picture, claiming his son. My client wasn’t backing down. His claim? He was the boy’s father, biological or not, and he wanted full custody of the child. Biological father be damned. My job? Find a way to ensure he got full custody and kick his money-sucking, unremorseful wife to the curb. And that I got down to doing. I did what I did best: finding whatever loopholes would help that man retain custody of the child he had fathered and loved for seven years, albeit not biologically. But the very first day I sat in a meeting with him, the man—an epitome of a Greek god, sex on legs—I knew I was doomed. (Nope, don't roll your eyes yet and hold off on that though for now).