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“Not my office. The buyer’s office. So get ready to be my paralegal, not the hot piece of ass I’ll catch one day.”
I follow my usual morning routine. Shower. Jerk off to Ruby. Dress. Think of Ruby. Eat breakfast. Hunger for Ruby. Grab my briefcase. And wait for-fucking-ever for Ruby.
And I know I should wait. Not just to fuck her, because once I do, she’ll be my queen and that puts her life in danger.
If one of my many enemies, like this sex trafficker we’re after, doesn’t attack her, my father will.
Does he believe we’re dead? I don’t know. It’s been thirty years since our mother staged our death, but my fear is alive and well.
I don’t fear what he’ll do to me. He’s already done the worst, many times.
It’s what he’ll do to Ruby.
The queen of a king, the head king, is the biggest target.
Am I an asshole because I never worried about it with Katya? Maybe. Or maybe she didn’t give us long enough for the threat to settle in.
If she had stayed. If she had borne my child, the grandchild and heir to the most evil man in the world, I can’tfathom the danger. The lengths my father would go to get my queen and heir ice my veins.
It’s all I want with Ruby: marriage and children.
But it would be her greatest risk, too.
It silences me on our drive to my friend’s law office.
Ruby looks stunning in my passenger seat, professional and polished, humming as if she enjoys Tchaikovsky now, and I should’ve canceled this closing. But it’s on a multi-million-dollar commercial property, and there would be hell to pay if I did.
Politely, I introduce us to the receptionist when we arrive. “Michael Cummings and Ruby Jones to see Ms. Sutton, please. We’re here for the Calloway/Grover closing.”
“Right this way.” The receptionist stands. “Your clients are waiting in the boardroom.”
“The Calloways?” Ruby side-whispers to me as we follow the receptionist.
“This was Samuel’s case,” I answer.
But he’s not here since I gave my staff the rest of the week off. Samuel handles commercial property closings for me, but Ruby’s my best paralegal. I put her on my pro bono cases. She’s like a pit bull with a bone when she gets a whiff of injustice.
It’s another reason my heart jumps off cliffs for this woman.
This woman, who startles at the sight of my clients when we enter the boardroom, but collects herself. I clock it, but focus on greeting everyone with handshakes. Then, I introduce Ruby.
“This is Ms. Jones, my paralegal.”
“Nice to meet you.” Harlow Sutton, the other attorney, shakes her hand.
“And this is John and Jessica Calloway and…” I start the greeting, but?—
“Oh, we’ve met.” Ms. Calloway sneers at Ruby. “We gowayback.”
“To high school,” Mr. Calloway adds, shifting nervously in his chair.
Subtly, I glance at Ruby while we take our seats. She’s silently lifting her chin, andoh fuck.
My Wildfire is raging.
Why?
I don’t have time to address it. Harlow Sutton proceeds quickly on behalf of her client, sliding documents across the table for my clients to sign, accepting twenty-five million dollars for their family’s land up the coast. I’ve been negotiating this deal for almost a year.