Esther Lament strode briskly down Fifth Avenue, New York, her Christian Louboutin heels clattering against the pavement. With velvety scarlet locks yanked up tightly into a bun and cool mint green eyes piercing her prey with a poisonous glare, Esther certainly was a force to be reckoned with in the court room. Never once had she lost a case, and never would she intend to. She continued on her way, not once stopping to consider giving a penny to the beggars, grounded and helpless as they were.
Vile pieces of trash cluttering her path, that's all they were to Esther.
She strutted through the doors of the executive law firm, stopping to give the porter a sharp nod of the head, thus further intimidating him. Trudging up the stairs, past the various colleagues, with their only means of acknowledgement being a disgruntled eye roll, Esther at last came to an abrupt at her office. With no photographs of family or friends, no kind of personalisation at all, the office looked, to a majority, the same as it had before she had shifted her things (a pot of stationary and files) into it, as dull and lifeless as a ragdoll.
"Your coffee, Ms Lament. Just the way you like it." Jacques Martin, Esther's long-time personal assistant and puppy-dog follower, ushered her to her desk with a steaming hot cup of coffee equipped in one hand. Jacques Martin, 23, had four children, a stern yet loving wife and not much money to look after them all. His best bet to follow out his dreams of becoming an attorney with not the right qualifications was zero to none but still he persistently brought it up most of the time when he and Esther were alone. It took all she had not to fire him, although she knew that it would please herself furthermore to do so during the festive season. Esther Lament was certainly a manipulative, sadistic workaholic who went to great measures to get what she wanted.
She smiled slightly, her smile not reaching her eyes.
Taking a sip, she looked over her work schedule.
She spat the coffee out repulsed.
"This is a Starbucks Christmas special isn't it?" Esther scowled at her unsuspecting victim.
"I-I thought you'd like it, that it might get you into the festive mood." Jacques muttered.
Glowering at the young man before her menacingly, Esther hissed, "You have an hour to get your belongings together and leave this building."
"B-b-but....." Jacques' face went ten shades paler.
Esther then proceeded to write him a hefty cheque of money.
Holding it out to him, her stoic expression not once wavering, she ground out, "I will not think twice about reconsidering my offer."
Jacques Martin accepted her cheque, walking quickly out of the room to save himself from the embarrassment of it all, a worried frown plastered upon his face.
"You know nothing about me." Esther whispered, clenching her fists tightly, frustrated.
Meanwhile, Rosalind Lament, Esther's sister skipped merrily through the doors, pausing to wish Jacques a "Merry Christmas".
Rosalind was the polar opposite of her sister, being charitable and kind. Their differences also extended to their looks. Rosalind had mousy brown locks and ceramic crystal blue orbs, unlike her sister's mane of red-gold hair and moss green eyes, always transfixed in a cold, calculating gaze. Esther's sister looked exactly like her father, a fact that Esther had come to detest.
"Rosalind." Esther pursed her lips.
"I just came over here to give you a personal invitation to our yearly Christmas ball." Rosalind beamed up at her.
"I thought you knew that I couldn't come. I have work to do." Esther replied in a monotone.
"Well, I hoped you would reconsider. It would be good for you to get out more." Rosalind sighed profusely, blowing away a stray tendril of hair.
