Five Years Up I Reveal I'm The Richest He Kneels And Begs novel Chapter 62

At the Ushurg Notary Public Office, the sunlight streamed in through the French windows. Angelo, with his long fingers, solemnly signed the final document.

The sound of the pen scratching the paper was particularly clear in the quiet room.

“Mr. Haley, are you sure you want to transfer all your assets – including shares in the law firm, real estate, and investments totaling 270 million – to the ‘Prissie Legal Aid Fund‘?” The notary officer confirmed repeatedly.

His pen didn’t stop, it glided over the paper in a perfect arc, “Yes, I confirm.”

As he walked out of the Ushurg Notary Public Office, the assistant caught up with him, her eyes red and filled with concern, “Mr. Haley, what are you going to do next?”

Angelo stopped and looked beyond the hustle and bustle of the street, gazing at the distant spire of the courthouse, as if he could see his former self full of vigor and spirit.

“Three years ago when I won my first lawsuit here,” he said softly, as if talking to himself, “I only had five hundred bucks in my pocket.”

Now, it’s just back to square one.

He looked at his assistant and said, “You go back, the law firm is busy now.”

“And what about you? Aren’t you going back?”

Angelo sighed lightly, he had some important things to do.

At the entrance of the Legal Aid Center, Angelo was getting ready to submit his application materials. He had just closed the car door, still holding a bulging paper bag in his arms. Suddenly, the loud screeching of tires sounded in his ears.

Angelo turned around, his pupils dilated suddenly.

An unlicensed car like a wild beast out of control was charging towards him! Behind the

windshield, there was Miley’s twisted face.

In the blink of an eye, he instinctively protected the folder containing the beneficiary’s information in his arms, but he was suddenly knocked out by a huge impact.

42070/

In a daze, he saw Miley’s crazy smile in the car that caused the accident.

“Let’s go to hell together…”

Her mouth said, “like this.”

In Starlight Law Firm, Priscilla just finished a cross–border meeting. She rubbed her furrowed brow, and suddenly her phone went crazy vibrating.

“Priscilla! Mr. Haley was attacked and seriously injured, now he’s being treated at Ushurg Central

Hospital!”

She stood there, the assistant’s urgent voice in her ear turning into a blur of noise.

Half an hour later, she stood outside the ICU and took the doctor’s critical condition notice.

“The patient had a skull fracture, internal bleeding, and less than 30% chance of survival,” the doctor whispered, “We need a signature from a close relative.”

Priscilla stared at the “spouse” column, pen hovering for a while.

In the end, she dialed Angelo’s parents‘ phone number.

The waiting time was endlessly stretched out, she sat at the door of the operating room waiting, her eyes fixed on the electronic clock on the wall, not knowing what she was thinking.

At that moment, the nurse handed Angelo his personal belongings.

A paper bag soaked in blood.

Priscilla opened it and stood there in shock.

Inside are the profiles of the beneficiaries of the legal aid handled by their law firm.

She flipped through the pages, and in the end, it was Angelo’s financial statement and donation

records.

Three months later, Justice Law Firm was established in Radren.

Under the flashing lights of the camera, the reporter held up the microphone and asked, “What was the reason for establishing this firm? And why did you choose this name?”

Priscilla looked into the camera, her voice clear and firm, “Because the law is fair, it should always

43.97%

maintain balance. Regardless of identity, status, wealth.”

The applause was thunderous in the audience, but no one noticed the tall, thin figure wearing a mask in the corner. Angelo, leaning on a cane, quietly gazed at the dazzling figure on the stage.

Over the next two years, they became the most familiar strangers in the legal world.

When she was fighting to recover millions of unpaid wages for migrant workers, he was next door in court using sign language to defend a deaf–mute defendant.

When she was pushing for the revision of the “Anti–domestic Violence Law“, he was providing legal assistance to women who had been abducted in the countryside.

We occasionally bumped into each other at the bar association meetings. She nodded slightly, he lowered his gaze and stepped aside.

Like two parallel lines, always close but never intersecting.

In late autumn, the ginkgo leaves at Ushurg Courthouse were as golden as ever.

Priscilla stood at the spot where Tyrell had attacked her years ago, and suddenly heard footsteps

behind her.

Angelo stood ten meters away, his black trench coat fluttering in the wind.

They stared at each other across a pile of fallen leaves, neither of them spoke.

In the end, she turned and walked towards the steps, while he bowed his head and passed through

the archway.

As they passed by each other, a gingko leaf fell on her shoulder and was brushed off by the corner

of his coat.