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“I’m sorry, Alexei. No, I didn’t know that.”
“No. The atrocities performed were kept from every other country. Even if you’d learned even a portion of the story, Prosecutor Morgan, would that have changed your opinion of me? Would you suddenly insist that every case brought against my family was dropped, my people no longer persecuted? You believe in all things black and white. That’s evident by the dozens of cases you’ve won even though the evidence against the individual was minimal if it existed at all.”
My God. The man had delved through my case files. How the hell had he gotten access? Of course. There was someone in our office who had given him carte blanche.
“How dare you. Are you accusing me of tampering with evidence?” I reacted without thinking, slapping him hard across the face. He turned his head, accepting the blow, his breathing deepening.
Swallowing hard, I pulled away. I’d just crossed a line that couldn’t be undone. My skin crawled as I noticed several people watching us. As he slowly turned his head, I shuddered inwardly, refusing to allow him to see I was terrified of what he’d do.
He took another deep breath, holding it in as he rubbed his jaw. “Tell me, my beautiful attorney, when you hear the word guilty coming from the jury, does it fill you with glee? Do you go home at night, celebrating the lengths you went to in order to achieve success, or do you have difficulty looking in the mirror knowing that you embellished the truth?”
I refused to say anything, to acknowledge his level of bullshit.
Yet it wasn’t, not entirely. A warm flush crept up both cheeks, my heart racing. Gregory had tutored me, mentored me through the years, providing tips as to how to ensure a guilty verdict. I’d lied to myself all these years, believing that what I was doing was right when I’d been as deplorable in my actions as some of the criminals I’d prosecuted.
“Answer me!” he demanded, slamming his fist on the table. I jumped, becoming cognizant we were making a scene.
“Stop. Just stop. You really are a bastard.”
When he laughed, the sound was entirely different than any I’d heard, the tone laced with pure evil. “Which is it, lioness? Am I a bastard, a monster, or the devil in disguise?”
I looked away, struggling to control my breathing.
“I’ll ask you again, prosecutor. If you’d known what my family had suffered all those years ago, would you have done anything differently?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Yes,” he snarled. “It is.”
His level of vehemence was surprising and as he grasped my fingers, crushing them in his, I could tell that whatever answer I provided he would ultimately use against me.
“Youwillanswer me.”
“You know I can’t care about what ugliness criminals dealt with in their past, Alexei. My job is to convict men and women who’ve broken the law. It doesn’t matter what story they tell or what they suffered. There isn’t a man or woman alive who doesn’t have a tragedy in their life that helped shape their ability to connect with right and wrong. It’s what they do with the choices they’re given that matters.”
As he tightened his hold, I was certain he was going to crush my fingers as a form of punishment. The flash of fire in his eyes was a clear indication that I’d pushed him too far.
The tension was horrible, his face like chiseled stone. He was determining what the hell do to with me. “I’m not your enemy, Alexei. I just have a job to do.”
When he brought my hand to his lips, pressing kisses against my knuckles, only then did I let out the breath I was holding.
“You have an interesting but correct handle on the reasons rules were created. I admire you, Stephanie. For your courage. For your love of the truth. And for your passion for all things. Perhaps that is why I’m so drawn to you.” He continued holding my hand, the moment becoming uncomfortably intimate.
“Yet you hate me and all I stand for.”
“I couldn’t hate something so incredibly perfect,” he said, his tone of voice husky. Seductive. I continued to hate the fact I was drawn to him in such a fervent way, forgoing every moment of common sense.
“At least your family has a new life. That should make you very proud.”
“Yes, they do, and I’ve never thought of what we’ve achieved as anything but what it is. I’ve done some very bad things in my life. I’ve made choices that would haunt your dreams. However, knowing that my father started off with next to nothing, leaving all his worldly possessions and the wealth he’d build by working twenty hours a day behind adds to the reasons for everything I do. A second chance doesn’t make it easier, sweet lioness. His ability to succeed after the adversity he was forced to face not once but twice is the very reason I wear this tattoo proudly. That is also why anyone I care about will accept that it is a requirement, my employees inked in black. It is a symbol of hard work, an unwavering desire for more. And I will happily destroy anyone who dares to get in my family’s way again.”
The atmosphere was thick and caustic, and I was suddenly in a vacuum where there was no one else around us.
His words were haunting, but the truth behind them provided more information about the stunning, dangerous man. I could find no words that would acknowledge either his fortitude or resolve. So I remained quiet, allowing him to search my soul for the reason I’d allowed my defenses to fall.
“Perhaps one day you will wear the same symbol.”
I was shocked by his statement, another determination he’d made. “Does that mean I’m special to you?”
