Page 51 of Omega's Fever

“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 thesteel 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.