Page 19 of Omega’s Fever (Prime Match #2)

We’re breathing hard, both of us. The small room feels too hot, too close. His scent is everywhere—vanilla and anger and something else. Arousal. Fuck.

“I can’t let you do this,” I manage.

“You can’t stop me.” He steps closer, and now we’re chest to chest. I can feel his heart racing. “I’m not your omega to command, Kellen. I’m your lawyer. And I’m going to do my job.”

“My omega.” The words come out rough, possessive. “Is that what you think this is about?”

“Isn’t it?” His eyes flash. “Big alpha needs to protect the poor, helpless omega?”

“You’re not helpless.” I’m so close I can feel his breath on my face. “You’re the most dangerous person in that courtroom.”

“Then trust me to do what I do best.”

“Which is?”

“Win.” He doesn’t back down an inch. “I’m very good at winning, Kellen. Ask anyone.”

“This isn’t a corporate merger. These are people who kill for a living. You know why I can’t let you do this.”

“You’re not letting me do anything.” His voice softens, but the steel is still there. “I’m choosing this. I’m choosing to fight. For you.”

The last two words hang between us like a confession.

“Milo...”

“Don’t.” He pulls his hand back. “Don’t tell me to be careful. Don’t tell me to back down. And definitely don’t tell me how to do my job.”

He moves to the door, pauses with his hand on the knob.

“I’m going to mention Cobb again,” he says without turning around. “Every chance I get. Every witness, every document, every piece of evidence. I’m going to make sure that jury knows exactly who the real criminal is.”

“Even if it gets you killed?”

He looks back at me then, and there’s something fierce and beautiful in his expression. “Then everyone will know who did it.”

The afternoon session brings Tony Briggs to the stand.

Where Marcus was nervous, Tony’s cocky. He’s put on muscle since The Pit closed, traded his bouncer’s black t-shirt for a suit that screams new money.

His testimony is smoother, more polished.

He describes me running the operation with careful detail, painting a picture of organized crime that would make any juror convict.

But Milo’s ready for him.

“Mr. Briggs, you said you worked security at The Pit for two years?”

“That’s right.”

“And you reported directly to Mr. Hayes?”

“Yeah. He was the boss.”

“I see.” Milo pulls out a document. “Can you explain why your employment records list someone else as security supervisor?”

Tony’s smile falters. “That was just paperwork. Everyone knew Hayes was really in charge.”

“Everyone knew.” Milo nods thoughtfully. “Tell me, if Mr. Hayes was running this elaborate criminal operation, why was he living in a studio apartment and driving a fifteen-year-old Honda?”

“Relevance?” Sutter shouts.

“I’m going somewhere with this, your Honor,” Milo says.

“Make sure you do.” Melkham looks interested despite himself. “Witness, you can answer.”

“I don’t know how he spent his money,” Tony says.

Milo takes a step closer. “But surely a successful crime boss would have some signs of wealth? Expensive clothes? Jewelry? Vacations?”

Tony shrugs. “Maybe he was smart about it.”

“Smart.” Milo sets down a bank statement.

“Did you ever see him wear designer clothes?”

“Oh sure,” Tony says. “He just dressed down sometimes.”

“Which designer? Can you describe the clothes?”

Tony’s eyes dart to me. “Uh sure. He had....designer jeans. And one of those shirts. Tommy Hilfiger, I think.” He glances at someone sat in the viewing area. “Also Gucci.”

“You think.” Milo says. “Also Gucci,” he repeats. “Mr Briggs, are you just throwing out names?”

“No.” Tony looks indignant.

“Okay, describe a Gucci item that Mr Hayes wore. Anything would do.”

“Uh...”

“Anything at all.”

“He had....like... he had Gucci shoes.”

“What did they look like?”

“They were... uh... brown and leather.”

“Brown and leather. How did you know they were Gucci?”

“Uh... they... uh... had the little logo thing on the side.”

I have no damn idea whether Gucci puts their logos on their shoes and it’s obvious that Tony has no idea either.

“What does the Gucci logo look like?”

Tony glances again at someone in the audience. “It’s a G?”

“Are you sure?”

Tony has always been a cocky guy so he evidently decides he might as well run with it. “Yes. He wore them all the time. And all the other stuff.”

Milo rolls his eyes. “Mr Briggs, if I were to show you a selection of designer logos, do you feel confident you could pick out the ones that Mr Hayes wore to flash his wealth? You know, on the days that he wasn’t dressing down.”

“I don’t know all of them.”

“That’s fine. Just the ones that you’re familiar with. The ones that you’re testifying Mr Hayes wore.”

“Uh sure.”

Milo goes back to his table and picks up a tablet. He begins grilling Briggs, showing him logo after logo. When he identifies a brand of dog food as something I wore regularly, Milo puts the tablet down. “No further questions for this witness.”

Tony practically runs from the stand. As he passes the gallery, I see him exchange a look with Joey Vaughn. A look that says he fucked up. That says there will be consequences.

Sutter looks like she’s swallowed something sour.

Melkham lets out a sigh, “Very well. We’ll adjourn for lunch. Next witness from two p.m.”

The gavel falls, and the courtroom erupts in motion. But I’m watching Joey Vaughn, who’s already heading for the exit with his phone out. Reporting back. Telling Cobb that the pretty omega lawyer is a problem.