Abandoning my childlike habit, I straighten my spine. “What would being a good friend entail, keeping her and her fiancé away from us?”
Her eyebrows arch for the ceiling. “Probably.”
Axel huffs a humorless chuckle, but I wave him off. I need to be the one who addresses this.
“Merce, if you don’t want to hide from your life, then open your eyes. This is it.” I circle my index finger around the palaceshe’s calling home, built by the men she adores, on the soil of morals she struggles with. “We’re your home, your safe place, your family. So, it’s one or the other. No cases and locked down in yourbell tower. Or two quick ones so we can get a fucking handle on this. I believe in you as my queen, but would prefer the lockdown. Say the word, and I’ll slam the cell.”
She bites her lip and says nothing. And Axel and I wait. We’ll work with whatever she decides.
Her hand presses into her sternum as the full scope of her current reality dawns on her. “If I don’t do this, you’re going to torture someone to figure out what the hell is going on. Aren’t you?”
“It’s a strong possibility,” I answer, and Axel smirks.
She rolls her eyes with a huff as she rises. “Deceitful queen it is. I’ll text Emma now.”
MERCY
That was almost embarrassingly easy. What is the point of even holding a bench trial if everyone is dirty and the outcome has already been established? I realize winning should make me feel good, but that was pathetic.
My smile is tight, but there nonetheless. “Well, that went smoothly.”
Everett’s dark eyes crease as his lips quirk into a lopsided grin. “This your first case associated with the Noires?”
Nerves akin to when I was a brand-new attorney in my twenties have been crackling in my bones all day. Weeding through contracts and spearheading plans to adhere to laws for the new resorts—all different based on the states and countries they’re located in—have been one thing. I thrive there because I can sink into the work, get lost in the legalities necessary for each endeavor. The research, the loopholes, and the challenges all calm me and busy my brain in a way I’ve craved for years.
But being in front of a judge, having all eyes on me, even if it’s only a few sets, isn’t as invigorating as it once was. I’m undecided as to whether that’s defeat or self-discovery. I’mleaning toward the latter. Maybe it’s okay that I prefer to be behind the scenes now. Still, I’m glad I jumped back in. If I hadn’t, I would have always wondered if I had chickened out because I didn’t feel like that hotshot lawyer anymore, if it was one more piece of me that Dalton had stolen.
Thankfully, it’s the opposite. I did it. I know I could have risen to a much greater challenge. I’m just not into it anymore.
“It is,” I confess since he already knows I haven’t been in the courtroom for a while. “And I feel as though my fight was wasted, but the outcome was favorable, so it’s all good.”
Hadyn—the co-counsel that Axel assigned—packs up his things in a rush. He’s always in a hurry, but he spares us a second before he scurries off. “Don’t let the ease fool you. Mercy would have dominated anywhere. She’s meticulous.”
That’s kind, especially since his schedule is jam-packed enough that this add-on was somewhat of a nuisance. I thank him as he heads to his next appointment.
Everett extends his own appreciation to him before turning back to me and rubbing his neatly trimmed beard with his tatted hand. “He’s right. Your fierceness was noted. You could’ve kicked any prosecutor’s ass in front of any judge. So, thanks. I’ll have to thank Ryker too. He’s intense. Convincing him to let you out of his sight was probably a much harder case.”
“That’s for sure.” I sling my briefcase tote bag over my shoulder and gesture toward the double doors. “He’s in the hallway. He probably has his ear pressed to the wood.”
Everett falls in step beside me while we head out, humor lacing his voice. “He mentioned that he’d be there on my way in.”
That has me laughing as we venture into the hallway. Two piercing blue eyes land on me before burning a hole into my client.
Everett waves at him and quickly veers the other direction, calling over his shoulder, “She did great. I’d offer to buy a drink to celebrate, but I learned my lesson.”
Ryker shocks me, his amusement ricocheting off the high ceiling and terrazzo floor. He kicks his chin up to Everett before sweeping me into his arms and searing me with a not-so-courthouse-appropriate kiss.
“Fuck,” he murmurs against my lips, his cozy-corruption scent vanquishing the musty historical-building odor. “I missed you.”
I weave my fingers into the hairs at the nape of his neck, the irritation about what the rest of our afternoon entails temporarily on hold. “You’re away from me longer most days at the resort. This was only a few hours.” I arch an accusatory brow. “The prosecutor was soamenable.”
He smirks. “He’s a good guy.”
“You’re really playing fast and loose with that interpretation, aren’t ya?”
He pulls back to study me for a beat, those glacial blues meandering all over my face. “That was fucking right.”
“What was?”
