The courtroom buzzed with anticipation as the judge's voice echoed, "Ms. Niyati Rathod, do you have anything to speak on this matter?"

Niyati, the courtroom's silent storm, rose from her seat. Her eyes,  swept across the room, settling on the accused, Mr. Sharma. He stood rigid, his face a mask of defiance.  "My lord," she began, her voice a silken thread cutting through the tension, "the way Mr. Gupta portrayed and shamed the victim of this acid attack, suggesting she lured his client, is an insult to justice itself."

She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in. The air thickened with unspoken accusations. With measured steps, Niyati approached the witness stand, her gaze unwavering. "Mr. Sharma, you claim you didn't attack her, correct?"

Sharma swallowed hard, his eyes darting nervously. "Of course, I did nothing. She tried to force herself on me. I told her I was married, but she wouldn't stop—"

Niyati's voice, though soft, held a steely edge. "Then why, Mr. Sharma, did you try to be close to Ms. Ahana?"

His face blanched. He stammered, his voice a mere whisper. 

Mr. Gupta, Sharma's lawyer, leaped to his feet. "Objection, your honor! Ms. Niyati is forcing my client to lie. He was the real victim!" He glared at Niyati, his voice laced with venom.

Niyati sighed, her composure unruffled. "My lord, I am simply asking a question. I am not forcing him to lie. May I have permission to continue?"

The judge, a stoic figure behind his bench, nodded. "Permission granted."

Niyati, her face a mask of quiet intensity, turned back to Sharma. The courtroom held its breath, waiting for the truth to unravel.

Niyati's voice, a velvet hammer, struck the heart of the matter. "Mr. Sharma," she began, her eyes boring into his, "why did you buy flowers, gifts for Ms. Ahana when you are a married man?"

Sharma fidgeted, his gaze darting nervously. "I... I just did what a colleague would do. And I wrote letters for her," he lied, his voice strained.

Niyati let out a soft chuckle, a sound that sent a shiver down Sharma's spine. "But Mr. Sharma," she continued, her smile a predator's grin, "in the entire office where you work, why didn't you gift roses to others? Why only Ms. Ahana?"

He stammered, his face paling. "I... I was very close to her," he lied again, his voice barely a whisper.

Niyati pressed her advantage. "Why were you so close to her, Mr. Sharma, when you are married and have a two-year-old daughter?"

Sweat beaded on Sharma's forehead. He rubbed his palms together, his eyes wide with panic. "Ms. Niyati, stop asking these false questions! I know I'm married, but that girl developed feelings for me. She offered herself to me even though she knew I was a married man!" he blurted out, his voice rising in a desperate attempt to deflect the truth.

"Order, order!" the judge's voice boomed, silencing the courtroom.

Niyati stood firm, her gaze unwavering. "Your honor," she addressed the judge, "may I present the final piece of evidence after I ask one last question?"

The judge nodded, his expression unreadable.

Niyati turned back to Sharma, her voice now a chilling whisper. "Mr. Sharma, why did you write letters to Ms. Ahana?"

Sharma's face contorted in fear. "I didn't! I never wrote any letters to her!" he denied, his voice trembling.

Niyati's lips curled into a smirk. "But you just said you wrote letters because you were close to her. And those letters, Mr. Sharma, were filled with confessions of love, weren't they?"

Sharma's eyes widened in terror. He was trapped, caught in the web of his own lies. The courtroom held its breath, waiting for the final blow.

The courtroom buzzed with anticipation as Ms. Niyati, the defense attorney, rose to her feet. Her voice, sharp and clear, cut through the murmurs. "Objection, your Honor!" Mr. Gupta, the prosecutor, interjected, his face contorted with frustration. "Order, order," the judge commanded, his voice booming across the room. "You cannot interrupt Ms. Niyati during her questioning."  Mr. Gupta mumbled an apology, his gaze fixed on Ms. Niyati with a mixture of anger and resentment.

Ms. Niyati, unfazed by his glare, continued, her voice unwavering. "That's it, your Honor. Now I wish to present my final piece of evidence." With a decisive stride, she moved towards her podium, retrieving a small, silver pendrive.  She handed it to the court clerk, who quickly connected it to the projector. The video played, revealing the chilling scene of Mr. Sharma, the accused, forcing himself on Ahana, the victim. Ahana struggled, pushing him away, her eyes filled with terror.  She tried to flee, but Mr. Sharma grabbed her hand, his grip tight and menacing.  Then, in a horrifying moment, he hurled a bottle of acid at her, his face twisted with malice.  He ran away, leaving Ahana screaming in agony.

The courtroom fell silent, the only sound the whirring of the projector.  The judge's eyes were fixed on the screen, his face etched with shock and disgust. Ms. Niyati, her lips curved in a triumphant smile, addressed the court. "Unfortunately, Mr. Sharma, you forgot to delete the CCTV footage from the garage under your office."

The judge, his voice grave, pronounced his verdict. "Considering all the evidence presented, this court finds Mr. Yashpal Sharma guilty of throwing acid under Section 326A of the IPC.  He is sentenced to 10 years imprisonment and a fine.  Furthermore, this court will provide financial assistance for Ms. Ahana Thakkar's treatment. The court is adjourned."

The judge rose, leaving the courtroom in a state of stunned silence. Mr. Sharma was immediately arrested, his face pale and contorted with fear. Mr. Gupta, his face a mask of fury, watched as Ms. Niyati, her victory evident in her eyes, walked away, her steps light and confident.  Once again, she had triumphed, leaving a win in her list.

The air crackled with a palpable energy, a symphony of cheers and applause that reverberated through the courtroom. Niyati, bathed in the warm glow of victory, basked in the moment. Her heart swelled with a mixture of relief and satisfaction as she looked at Ms. Ahana, her client, whose eyes shone with a mixture of gratitude and newfound hope.

"Thank you, mam," Ms. Ahana whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "If you wouldn't have helped, I might not have gotten justice." Niyati placed a comforting hand on Ms. Ahana's shoulder. "Ms. Ahana, I did what is my duty. You deserve justice, and I tried my best to give that to you. Don't feel insecure or ashamed. Be who you are. All the best for your future."

As Niyati stepped out of the courtroom, a figure emerged from the throng, her face contorted with a mixture of anger and despair. "Why did you do this?" she spat, her voice laced with venom. Niyati, recognizing the woman as Mr. Sharma's wife, felt a pang of sympathy for her pain, but her resolve remained unwavering. "Mam, I did what is right. Your husband deserved punishment for his deeds." The woman glared at her, her eyes blazing with fury. "I curse you," she hissed, her voice dripping with malice. "Just like I am separated from my husband, you will be separated from yours, and you will suffer for him." Niyati, unfazed by the woman's threats, simply nodded and entered her car, leaving the courtroom behind, her victory bittersweet.

Niyati Rathod, a fierce 28-year-old criminal lawyer, walks the hallowed halls of the Supreme Court with an unwavering determination to deliver justice to every soul. Her fiery spirit and unwavering optimism are a beacon of hope in the often-bleak world of legal battles.  Though she yearns for love and believes it might forever elude her, she never lets this longing dim her spirit.  Niyati faces every obstacle with a smile, never complaining about her pain or grief. This resilience, combined with her courage and compassion, makes her a formidable force in the courtroom, and a true champion for the voiceless.

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The prologue is out I hope you love this do tell me how is it and vote.Ignore My grammatical mistakes and spelling and add this book in your reading list.Bye bye love ya' take care<3.