Although if anyone cared to look even a little under the surface, they’ll find out I’m related to criminals.
They don’t want to hear that. From my understanding, Vance took one look and chose me. Like I should be fucking grateful or some shit. God, I hate men.
Vance is a decent-looking guy, wears a suit well, and he’s charming. He’s also got a lot of money. He’d have to, to afford this law firm. It’s easy to see why women are attracted to him and want to be around him.
Like the good old boys they are, Harry, my boss and Vance are currently talking about some real estate deal he’s a part of, so I take the time to study him.
He’s not my type. Too perfect, too coiffed. He has an air of rich prick that hovers around him like a bad smell. I wouldn’t let Vance Roderick touch me with someone else’s dick, never mind his own.
Looking back at Vance I contemplate my hypocrisy. I defend criminals, it’s my job. But the loyalty to the Devil’s Chaos MC is an entirely different animal.
What they do is illegal, but I turn a blind eye. Mom always told me, as long as they’re not killing innocent or good people then my conscience can rest easy. Sometimes it’s not that simple.
Yes, they sell weapons and ammunition and on the face of it, that doesn’t involve them in anything that happens once the guns are in other people’s hands. But without them moving those guns from hand to hand…
I could go crazy thinking about that chicken and egg scenario.
King paid to put me through college with the intention of keeping me on the payroll and I agreed to it. It’s the life I was raised in. I may have some moral dilemmas about it, but they’re family.
So do I do it? Do I admit defeat and leave this legitimate job?
Days like today fuck with my head. It’s this creep that’s got me all mixed up. As soon as this case is done, I’ll go back to being blissfully compartmentalized.
Reading Vance’s case file and the victims’ statement made me sick. He’s terrorized and left a woman scared, all for his own amusement and self-entitlement. Yet they want to spin it to blame her.
And I have to defend this guy? Shit.
“Cassie?”
I look up from my legal pad. Harry is waiting for me to say something. It’s a good job I can multi-task and had one ear on their chatter while suffering an existential crisis about my life choices.
“Of course,” I tell him. “I’ll set up the depositions for next week.”
“Excellent,” Harry claps his hands together. “If we can get them all locked in by the end of next week. We need to line up the psychologist as well. The easier we can prove her poor mental state before she met you, the better.”
“Great.” Vance smiles.
Pricks, both of them, plotting how to make this woman look like there is something wrong with her when the real monster is sitting at this table looking like the cat who ate the canary.
“I’ll get right on it,” I gather my things to leave.
“Cassie?”
Just his voice makes my skin itch, I never said it was okay for him to refer to me as anything other than Ms. Beillo.
Plastering on a fake smile, I look at our client. He’s leaning back in chair with an insolent smile on his lips. His eyes flick down to my chest and back to my face.
Where some others may titter at the attention, or cower from the blatant sexual interest, I stare back.
“I really appreciate everything you’re doing. Harry tells me you’re one of the best lawyers here.”
“That’s kind of him, but everyone here is an excellent lawyer.”
“I love that you feel that way.” He licks his lower lip.
I try not to throw up in my mouth.
“Maybe we could have dinner, to discuss the case.”
