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“Court is planned for tomorrow.” My fists clench as I feel the anger bubbling up inside me. “Are you saying that I won’t be able to consult with my lawyer until I’m facing the Judge? Are you for real?” I am more confused than ever.
Who defends someone without seeing them first? How can I be aligned with them if we have no plan and no strategy in place?
“Do you trust me?” I meet his gaze and look him straight in the eye. Even though we have a complicated history, I still trust him. One doesn’t become the most powerful man in the underworld by making hasty decisions. Resignation seems to be the prevailing emotion at the moment.
“I do, but?—”
“No but. Trust me, get ready for tomorrow, stick to your truth, and it’ll be okay. They are the best in their field. Do not speak to anyone before the trial. If everything goes as planned, it will be a matter of a day.” Now I look at him like he lost his goddamn mind.
“A day?” A nervous laugh escapes me because, c’mon, nobody can be that good.
“Aye, a day. I told you they are the best at what they do. I’m confident in them enough. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have contacted them.”
“Alright then. It’s not like I have another choice.”
“No, you don’t. I’ll see you tomorrow, son.”
Tomorrow comes quickly. I’m not the type of guy to be stressed, but I have to say, not knowing what to expect is stressing me the hell out.
I’m seated in the front row, my da’ and Scott right behind me. I’m looking around to see if my lawyer is here, but nobody is here yet. The murmur of frustrated voices around me tells me that people are getting impatient.
Me too, pals. I don’t know what the fuck my da’ thought when he hired them, but if punctuality is not their forte, I don’t think they’ll do a great job to get me out of here.
As the courtroom fills with agitation, a woman with fiery hair I’ve never seen before enters, catching my attention. With a determined stride, she heads straight towards my da’ and leans in to whisper in his ear. While he nods his head in agreement, I’m left feeling completely clueless about what is happening. Sitting down next to me, she extends her hand and introduces herself with a smile.
“Good morning, Mr Preston. I’m Emilie Rousseau, your attorney’s legal assistant, and I’ll be working with you as part of your defence team today.”
Legal assistant? What the fuck?
“And where is my attorney? Because if you haven’t noticed it yet, the trial is going to start anytime soon now.” As soon as the words leave my lips, the door opens once again.
What the hell? What is she doing here? The only person who has been etched into my memory for the past eight years.
Is this a joke? Does my da’ know? Of course, he does. He’s the one who called her.
She looks just as I remember her, but there’s a new confidence in her demeanour after all this time. She is absolutely stunning, and my heart can’t help but ache at her sight. Her curves are less pronounced, but they’re still there.
Walking toward us, she gives a slight nod to my da’ and a faint smile to her brother. Her eyes scan the surroundings until they find mine. Those black eyes, those fucking eyes. I’ve dreamt about those so many times that I’ve lost count. Her gaze bores into me with a look that could kill, and I can’t blame her. Good, keep that anger on the surface, beautiful. You’ll need that today.
“Mr Preston.” Okay, so we’re playing it that way. She sits between her assistant and me, and I catch a whiff of her sweet perfume as she leans over to grab something from her bag. Her vanilla scent still has the same effect on me, even after all this time. I close my eyes and breathe in the familiar aroma of her.
“What are you doing here?” I know I sound like an arsehole, but I wasn’t expecting her today. I don’t cope well with surprises, and having her in the middle of my mess is the last thing I want for her.
Fuck. Seeing her feels like a painful stab in the heart, slowly twisting the knife.
“Let’s focus on why I am here today. I had a late flight, so let me do my job and keep your words to a minimum, would you?” Oh, kitten grew her claws.
“Tin—.” She silences me with a sharp tone.
“Don’t. You lost all right to call me that years ago. It’s Miss Reed for you today.”
“Got it.” Although she has every reason to be angry, the situation still stings.
“All rise,” the bailiffs announce. “This court is now in session. The honourable Judge James McLeod is presiding.” As the Judge enters, I feel my palms becoming sweaty. Okay, just breathe. She’s got this. It’s not her first rodeo.
“Defence Attorney Reed?” the Judge asks.
“Ready for the Defence, Your Honour.” Let this chaos begin.
