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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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Behind them, Jorge finally allowed himself a small smile. Justice had spoken, and the truth had won.
For a few seconds after the judge's gavel struck the wood, the courtroom remained frozen in a strange kind of silence.
It wasn't the tense silence that had filled the room earlier during testimony.
This silence was different.
It was the quiet shock that comes when something long anticipated finally happens.
At the plaintiff's table, Francesco Lee stood still while Leah Williamson wrapped her arms around him.
The embrace wasn't dramatic.
It was tight.
Relieved.
Real.
For days, Francesco had lived under a storm of rumors and accusations that had spread across television screens, sports headlines, and social media feeds around the world.
And now, suddenly, it was over.
Leah pulled back slightly and looked up at him.
"You're free," she said again softly.
Francesco exhaled slowly.
The breath felt heavier than usual, like something deep inside his chest had finally loosened.
"I guess I am," he replied.
Behind them, Jorge Mendes rose from his seat.
He didn't rush forward.
He simply stood there with his hands resting lightly on the back of the chair in front of him, watching the scene with a small, satisfied smile.
For someone who spent most of his career negotiating massive transfers and contracts across Europe's biggest clubs, this moment had nothing to do with football.
It had been about protecting the reputation of one of his clients.
And more importantly, protecting a young man who had nearly seen his career derailed by something that had never actually happened.
But the quiet relief in the courtroom did not last long.
Because across the room, something suddenly shifted.
At the defense table, Sofia Carter was still sitting in her chair.
At first she hadn't moved.
Her shoulders had simply dropped when the verdict was read.
But now…
Now her breathing had changed.
Her hands gripped the edge of the table so tightly that her knuckles had turned pale.
Her lawyer leaned toward her.
"Sofia," he whispered quietly. "It's over."
But Sofia didn't respond.
Instead she slowly stood up.
The chair behind her scraped loudly against the floor.
The sound echoed sharply through the courtroom.
Several people turned toward her immediately.
At first it looked like she might simply leave.
But then her expression twisted.
Anger.
Sharp.
Explosive.
"This is ridiculous!" she suddenly shouted.
The entire courtroom froze again.
The judge looked down sharply from the bench.
"Ms. Carter—"
But Sofia's voice rose even louder.
"This whole trial is a joke!"
Gasps rippled through the gallery seats.
Her lawyer stood up quickly.
"Sofia, stop."
But she pulled her arm away from him.
"You're all blind!" she yelled, pointing angrily toward the jury box.
The jurors, who had just delivered their verdict moments earlier, stared back in stunned silence.
"You think this is justice?" she continued.
Her voice shook with fury.
"This court has been bribed!"
A loud murmur erupted instantly across the room.
Even the journalists seated in the back benches looked stunned.
The accusation hung in the air like a lightning strike.
The judge's face hardened immediately.
"Ms. Carter," he said firmly.
But Sofia wasn't finished.
She pointed toward the bench.
"You're all protecting him!"
She jabbed a finger toward Francesco.
"He's a celebrity!"
Her voice cracked slightly.
"You think football stars don't buy their way out of trouble?"
The courtroom erupted into louder murmurs now.
The judge's gavel slammed down repeatedly.
"ORDER!"
The sharp cracks of wood against wood echoed through the chamber.
But Sofia's anger had reached a boiling point.
"You're all corrupt!" she shouted again.
That was enough.
The judge leaned forward sharply.
"Bailiffs."
Two court security officers who had been standing near the doors immediately moved toward Sofia.
"Ms. Carter," the judge said in a stern voice.
"You will control yourself immediately."
But Sofia continued struggling as the guards reached her.
"This whole court is rigged!" she shouted again.
One of the officers gently but firmly grabbed her arm.
"Ma'am, you need to come with us."
"Don't touch me!" she snapped, trying to pull away.
Her lawyer covered his face with one hand.
Because at that moment he knew the situation had completely collapsed.
The judge's expression remained cold.
"Remove her from the courtroom."
The bailiffs tightened their grip slightly and began escorting Sofia toward the side exit.
She continued shouting as they moved her across the floor.
"You'll regret this!"
"This isn't over!"
But her voice gradually faded as the courtroom door opened and she was led outside.
The heavy door closed behind her with a dull thud.
And just like that, the storm was gone.
For several seconds nobody spoke.
The courtroom sat in stunned silence.
Then the judge straightened slightly in his chair.
He looked across the room once more.
"This court's ruling stands."
His voice was calm again now.
"If there are no further matters, the session is concluded."
He struck the gavel one final time.
"This court is dismissed."
Slowly, the courtroom began to come back to life.
People started talking again.
Chairs moved.
Journalists rushed toward the hallway to report what had just happened.
But at the plaintiff's table, Francesco remained standing quietly.
He had watched the entire scene without saying a word.
Leah slipped her hand gently into his.
"That escalated quickly," she murmured softly.
Francesco nodded.
"Yeah."
He watched the closed door where Sofia had been escorted out.
Part of him felt relief.
Another part felt something more complicated.
Because no matter what had happened, seeing someone completely lose control like that wasn't something anyone enjoyed witnessing.
But the reality remained simple.
She had made the accusations.
And those accusations had almost destroyed his reputation.
Beside him, Jorge finally walked over.
"Well," the agent said with a small shrug, "that was… dramatic."
Francesco laughed quietly for the first time that day.
"That's one way to describe it."
Their lawyer approached them as well, closing his briefcase.
"You handled everything perfectly," he said to Francesco.
Francesco shook his head slightly.
"You handled everything."
The lawyer smiled.
"That's my job."
Francesco extended his hand.
"Still."
They shook hands firmly.
"Thank you."
The lawyer nodded once.
"You're welcome."
Francesco then turned toward Jorge.
For a moment, the two men simply looked at each other.
Jorge had been his agent for years.
But during this incident he had done far more than just manage contracts.
He had stood by him through the chaos.
Through the media pressure.
Through the fear that the situation might spiral beyond control.
Francesco stepped forward and hugged him briefly.
"Thanks for backing me through all of this," he said quietly.
Jorge patted his shoulder.
"Of course."
He smiled slightly.
"You're not just a client."
Francesco pulled back.
"Still means a lot."
Jorge glanced toward the courtroom doors where reporters were beginning to gather outside.
"Well," he said casually, "the headlines tomorrow will be a lot nicer than the ones last week."
Leah smirked.
"That's an understatement."
Francesco took a deep breath.
For the first time in days, the air felt lighter.
Outside the courtroom, reporters were already shouting questions in the hallway.
Cameras were being set up.
News alerts were being sent across the world.
But inside the courtroom, Francesco took one last look around.
The trial was finished.
The accusations had been defeated.
And the truth had finally won.
"Let's go home," he said quietly.
Leah squeezed his hand.
"Yeah."
Together, they walked toward the exit.
Leaving the courtroom behind.
The heavy wooden doors of the courtroom closed behind them with a deep, echoing thud.
For a moment, the hallway outside seemed almost quiet.
Almost.
But the calm lasted only a few seconds.
Because the moment Francesco Lee, Leah Williamson, Jorge Mendes, and the legal team stepped into the corridor as the noise exploded.
"Francesco!"
"Mr. Lee!"
"Over here!"
"Did you expect the verdict?"
"Do you have a message for fans?"
Cameras flashed instantly.
Bright white bursts of light reflected against the marble walls of the courthouse hallway.
Microphones stretched forward from every direction like a forest of black foam tips and recording devices.
Dozens of reporters had clearly been waiting outside the courtroom doors the entire time.
Some from major television networks.
Some from sports media outlets.
Some independent journalists livestreaming the moment on their phones.
And the second the verdict became public, they swarmed.
Court security had clearly anticipated this.
Two officers immediately stepped forward, raising their arms to create a barrier.
"Please step back," one guard instructed firmly.
"Give them space."
Another officer moved ahead, signaling to additional security near the courthouse entrance.
Within seconds, a controlled corridor began forming.
A human lane.
Security guards on both sides guiding the group toward the main exit.
But the questions continued flying through the air.
"Francesco, how does it feel to clear your name?"
"Leah, how difficult was it supporting him through this?"
"Jorge, what does this mean for his career?"
"Is there going to be further legal action?"
Cameras tracked every step they took.
Francesco blinked slightly as another flash burst in front of his face.
He had dealt with media attention for years.
Post-match interviews.
Press conferences.
Champions League coverage.
But this felt different.
This wasn't about football.
This was about reputation.
Truth.
And the story that had dominated headlines for days.
Leah walked beside him calmly.
Her hand remained lightly wrapped around his arm.
Not tightly.
Not dramatically.
Just steady.
Grounding.
"You alright?" she murmured quietly.
Francesco nodded.
"Yeah."
He glanced ahead.
The courthouse entrance was now visible about twenty meters down the corridor.
But between them and the doors—
Even more reporters.
More cameras.
More microphones.
Outside the glass entrance doors, a crowd of media had gathered on the courthouse steps as well.
Satellite vans.
Broadcast crews.
Live streams already running.
Jorge Mendes looked at the growing media presence and shook his head slightly with a small smile.
"Well," he muttered.
"Looks like the entire press decided to show up."
Francesco chuckled quietly.
"Not surprising."
Their lawyer walked just behind them, carrying his briefcase calmly despite the chaos.
"Remember," he said quietly, "you don't have to answer anything."
Jorge raised a finger.
"Actually…"
He glanced toward the cameras.
"I think we should."
Francesco raised an eyebrow.
"You want to do this now?"
Jorge nodded.
"Yes."
He adjusted the cuffs of his suit jacket slightly.
"Better to control the narrative."
He looked toward the security officers walking beside them.
"Give us a moment outside."
The guard nodded.
"We'll clear a space."
As they reached the courthouse doors, the noise grew even louder.
The moment the doors opened, a wall of sound hit them.
Reporters calling out.
Cameras clicking.
Live microphones broadcasting every second.
Security quickly moved ahead to form a wider semicircle on the courthouse steps.
"Back up please."
"Give them room."
"Everyone step behind the line."
Gradually, the crowd shifted.
A small open space formed in front of the courthouse entrance.
Jorge turned toward the reporters and raised a hand slightly.
And something remarkable happened.
The noise lowered.
Not completely.
But enough.
Because the reporters recognized the signal.
A live statement was about to happen.
Jorge gestured toward Francesco.
"We'll take a few questions."
Instantly dozens of microphones shot forward again.
One reporter from a major sports network spoke first.
"Francesco, how does it feel to be cleared by the court today?"
Francesco exhaled slowly.
For a brief moment he looked out across the crowd of cameras and reporters.
Flashes.
Lights.
Microphones.
And behind them, a few curious members of the public watching the moment unfold.
He had played football in front of sixty thousand fans before.
But this felt strangely more personal.
He spoke calmly.
"Honestly?"
He paused slightly.
"It feels like a huge weight has been lifted."
Cameras flashed again.
"For days, there were accusations and headlines everywhere."
He glanced briefly toward Leah beside him.
"But today the truth came out."
Another reporter stepped forward quickly.
"Were you worried about how this might affect your career?"
Francesco nodded slightly.
"Of course."
He shrugged lightly.
"When something like this spreads online, people start believing things before they know the facts."
He paused.
"But I trusted the legal process."
Another voice called out.
"Leah, how difficult was it supporting him through all of this?"
Leah smiled faintly.
She wasn't usually the center of media questions like this.
But she answered calmly.
"It wasn't easy."
She looked at Francesco briefly.
"But when you know someone's character, you stand by them."
Her hand briefly squeezed his arm again.
"That's what matters."
Another reporter raised a microphone.
"Mr. Mendes, do you believe this situation damaged Francesco's reputation internationally?"
Jorge folded his arms calmly.
"For a short time, yes."
He spoke with the smooth confidence of someone who had handled the media for decades.
"But the truth always wins in the end."
He gestured toward Francesco.
"And today the truth was confirmed."
Another journalist stepped forward quickly.
"Is there any plan for additional legal action against media outlets that reported the accusations?"
Francesco's lawyer spoke up this time.
"We're currently reviewing all possibilities."
He adjusted his glasses slightly.
"Several organizations published claims before verifying the facts."
A murmur passed through the press group.
The lawyer continued.
"We will consider our options moving forward."
Another question came immediately.
"Francesco, do you have any message for fans who supported you during the trial?"
Francesco smiled slightly.
This question felt easier.
"Yeah."
He nodded.
"Thank you."
He looked directly toward one of the cameras broadcasting live.
"The support meant a lot."
He paused.
"When you're in the middle of something like this, knowing people still believe in you makes a big difference."
Another reporter shouted a question from the back.
"What about Sofia Carter's reaction in the courtroom?"
A few journalists leaned forward eagerly.
That moment had already started spreading online.
Clips were likely circulating across social media.
Francesco hesitated briefly.
Then answered carefully.
"I'm not going to speak badly about anyone."
His tone remained calm.
"But the court made its decision."
Another voice called out.
"Do you believe justice was served today?"
Francesco nodded.
"Yes."
The answer was simple.
But it carried weight.
Jorge glanced toward the security guards.
They had already been standing there nearly ten minutes.
More media crews were arriving.
And the crowd was growing larger.
He raised a hand again.
"Last question."
A young journalist near the front raised her microphone.
"Francesco… what's next for you?"
Francesco smiled slightly at that.
For the first time during the entire press moment, the question felt normal.
Familiar.
Like something from a post-match interview.
"What's next?"
He glanced briefly toward Leah again.
Then toward Jorge.
Then back toward the cameras.
"Going home."
A few reporters chuckled.
He continued.
"I'm going to rest."
He paused.
"And then I'm going back to football."
That answer brought another wave of camera flashes.
Because for the sports world watching this story unfold, that was the headline.
Francesco Lee was moving forward.
Jorge nodded once toward the reporters.
"Thank you everyone."
Security officers immediately stepped forward again.
"Alright, that's enough."
"Please clear the path."
The human corridor reformed.
Reporters continued shouting a few final questions.
But the group began moving again.
Down the courthouse steps.
Toward the waiting cars parked along the curb.
As they walked, Leah leaned slightly toward Francesco.
"You handled that well."
Francesco smiled faintly.
"I've had practice."
Jorge laughed quietly beside them.
"Not quite the same as a Champions League interview though."
Francesco shrugged.
"Still felt like a final."
They reached the black car waiting at the curb.
A driver opened the door.
Francesco took one last look back toward the courthouse.
Cameras were still pointed in their direction.
Reporters still talking into microphones.
Broadcast vans sending the story around the world.
But for him, the storm was over.
He stepped into the car.
Leah followed beside him.
Jorge and the lawyer climbed into the second vehicle behind them.
And as the cars pulled away from the courthouse, the noise of the media slowly faded behind them.
The city noise slowly melted away as the two black cars moved through the streets of London.
Inside the first vehicle, Francesco Lee leaned back against the leather seat and finally allowed his shoulders to relax.
For the first time in what felt like forever, there were no cameras flashing in his face.
No reporters shouting questions.
No courtroom tension hanging in the air.
Just the quiet hum of the car engine and the soft movement of traffic outside the windows.
Beside him, Leah Williamson sat comfortably, her legs crossed slightly while she watched the city pass by through the tinted glass.
For a while neither of them spoke.
It wasn't an awkward silence.
It was the kind of quiet people fall into when something heavy has finally ended.
Francesco rubbed the back of his neck and exhaled.
"That was… exhausting."
Leah let out a small laugh.
"Exhausting?"
She tilted her head slightly toward him.
"I wasn't the one answering questions in front of fifty reporters."
Francesco smiled faintly.
"You were standing next to me the whole time."
"True," she admitted.
She leaned her head back against the seat.
"But at least now it's done."
Francesco nodded slowly.
Outside the window, the streets were gradually changing.
The dense central London traffic was fading behind them as the car moved toward the quieter, greener neighborhoods.
Rows of elegant houses passed by.
Tree-lined streets.
Calmer roads.
Eventually the driver turned onto a quieter avenue leading toward Richmond.
Francesco glanced outside again, his eyes recognizing the familiar surroundings.
Home.
Behind them, the second car followed steadily.
Inside that car sat Jorge Mendes and Francesco's lawyer.
Jorge had already loosened his tie slightly, leaning back comfortably as he checked his phone.
News alerts were exploding across sports media.
Headlines everywhere.
"COURT CLEARS FRANCESCO LEE."
"DEFAMATION CASE ENDS IN FOOTBALL STAR'S FAVOR."
"SOFIA CARTER SENTENCED."
Jorge chuckled quietly to himself.
"Media moves fast," he muttered.
The lawyer beside him adjusted his glasses while reading the same updates.
"At least this time the story is accurate."
Jorge nodded.
"That's all we needed."
Meanwhile, in the front car, Leah suddenly noticed Francesco staring quietly out the window.
"What's going on in that head of yours?"
Francesco blinked slightly.
"Hm?"
"You've been quiet."
He shrugged lightly.
"Just thinking."
"About?"
He hesitated for a moment.
"About how crazy the last few days have been."
Leah nodded.
"That's fair."
Francesco exhaled again.
"One moment you're just living your life…"
He looked down at his hands briefly.
"Then suddenly the whole world is talking about you for something you didn't even do."
Leah reached over and gently squeezed his hand.
"But now the whole world also saw the truth."
He looked at her and smiled softly.
"Yeah."
The car slowed slightly as it turned into a long private driveway lined with tall trees.
At the end of the road stood Francesco's mansion in Richmond.
According to the user memory, this had become his home not long ago.
A large modern property surrounded by landscaped gardens and tall hedges that provided privacy from curious photographers.
The front gates opened automatically as the cars approached.
The driver pulled smoothly into the circular driveway.
But the moment the car came to a stop, Francesco frowned slightly.
"Huh."
Leah looked out the window.
"What?"
Francesco pointed toward another vehicle parked near the entrance.
"That car…"
Leah leaned forward slightly to see better.
A familiar silver sedan sat parked near the front of the house.
Francesco's eyebrows lifted slightly.
"That's my parents' car."
Leah smiled immediately.
"Well…"
She looked at him with amusement.
"Looks like someone already heard the news."
The driver stepped out and opened the door for them.
Francesco stepped onto the driveway, stretching his legs slightly after the ride.
The air in Richmond felt noticeably quieter than central London.
No reporters.
No cameras.
Just the distant sound of birds and the gentle movement of wind through the trees.
Leah stepped out beside him.
Behind them, Jorge and the lawyer exited the second vehicle.
Jorge glanced toward the house.
"Well," he said with a grin.
"Looks like you've got visitors."
Francesco laughed softly.
"Yeah."
He ran a hand through his hair.
"They must have driven straight here after the verdict."
Leah nudged him playfully.
"Your mom probably wants to feed everyone."
"That's very likely."
They walked toward the front door together.
Francesco pulled his keys from his pocket but paused before unlocking the door.
He could already smell something.
Food.
Warm.
Comforting.
Cooking.
Leah sniffed the air slightly.
"Okay, I definitely smell lunch."
Francesco laughed.
"Yep. That's definitely my mom."
He opened the door and stepped inside.
"Mom? Dad?"
The house was warm and quiet.
Sunlight poured through the tall windows in the living room.
And from the kitchen, the unmistakable sound of cooking.
Pans moving.
Utensils clinking lightly.
A voice called out from the kitchen almost immediately.
"You're home!"
Francesco smiled.
That voice was unmistakable.
Sarah Lee.
His mother appeared from the kitchen doorway moments later, wiping her hands lightly on a kitchen towel.
Her face lit up instantly the moment she saw him.
"Oh my goodness."
She crossed the room quickly.
Before Francesco could say anything, she wrapped him in a tight hug.
"My boy."
Francesco laughed softly as he hugged her back.
"I'm okay, Mom."
"I know," she said quickly.
"But still."
She pulled back slightly and looked at his face carefully, almost like she was checking that he was truly alright.
"You look tired."
"That's because the last few days has been insane."
She nodded knowingly.
"I watched everything."
Francesco raised an eyebrow.
"Everything?"
"Every update."
She placed her hands on her hips.
"Don't think I didn't notice those reporters trying to twist things."
Behind her, another voice spoke calmly from the living room.
"That's the media for you."
Francesco looked over and smiled immediately.
His father.
Mike Lee sat comfortably in one of the armchairs near the window, holding a cup of tea.
He stood up as Francesco approached.
There was no dramatic reaction.
No loud emotion.
That just wasn't Mike.
Instead he gave his son a firm handshake before pulling him into a quick hug.
"Good job keeping your head up through all that."
Francesco nodded.
"Thanks, Dad."
Mike glanced toward Leah and smiled warmly.
"And Leah."
Leah stepped forward politely.
"Hi, Mr. Lee."
"Please," he said with a chuckle.
"You've known us long enough."
"Right."
She smiled.
"Hi Mike."
Sarah clapped her hands lightly.
"Oh! And look who else is here."
She spotted Jorge and the lawyer stepping into the house.
"You must be the famous agent."
Jorge smiled politely.
"Guilty."
He shook her hand.
"Nice to finally meet you."
"And you must be the lawyer who saved my son from that mess."
The lawyer chuckled slightly.
"I just did my job."
"Well I'm still grateful."
Sarah gestured toward the dining room.
"Now all of you sit down."
She pointed a wooden spoon slightly like a commander giving orders.
"Lunch is almost ready."
Francesco laughed.
"That didn't take long."
Leah leaned toward him and whispered playfully.
"I told you."
The smell from the kitchen grew stronger as Sarah returned to finish cooking.
Roasted chicken.
Fresh vegetables.
Warm bread.
Real home food.
Francesco sat down at the dining table with a quiet sense of relief settling over him.
His father sat across from him.
Jorge and the lawyer took seats nearby.
Leah sat beside him.
For a moment Francesco simply looked around the room.
His home.
His family.
People he trusted.
No cameras.
No accusations.
No chaos.
Just normal life again.
Mike raised his teacup slightly.
"Well," he said calmly.
"Looks like justice worked today."
Francesco nodded.
"Yeah."
From the kitchen Sarah called out again.
"Lunch in five minutes!"
Leah laughed quietly, as Francesco leaned back in his chair. And for the first time in days, he felt completely at peace.
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Name : Francesco Lee
Age : 18 (2016)
Birthplace : London, England
Football Club : Arsenal First Team
Championship History : 2014/2015 Premier League, 2014/2015 FA Cup, 2015/2016 Community Shield, 2016/2017 Premier League, 2015/2016 Champions League, Euro 2016, Premier League Champion 2016/2017, and 2016/2017 Champions League.
Season 16/17 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 55
Goal: 87
Assist: 5
MOTM: 14
POTM: 1
England:
Match: 1
Goal: 1
Assist: 0
MOTM: 0
Season 15/16 stats:
Arsenal:
Match Played: 60
Goal: 82
Assist: 10
MOTM: 9
POTM: 1
England:
Match Played: 2
Goal: 4
Assist: 0
Euro 2016
Match Played: 6
Goal: 13
Assist: 4
MOTM: 6
Season 14/15 stats:
Match Played: 35
Goal: 45
Assist: 12
MOTM: 9