Page 2 of One Dark Kiss (Grimm Bargains #2)

TWO

Rosalie

S ome bean counter from the accounting firm two floors above mine chews peanut brittle on the way up in the elevator, and the sound cuts through me like a sharpened blade.

I cast him a couple of looks over my shoulder, but he munches contentedly away, his gaze on the different numbers lighting up above the door.

What a jackass. I try to concentrate on the soft elevator music, but the melody is no match for his teeth.

The door opens and I leap out, barely keeping myself from running as I hustle onto the seventh floor of the Cage and Lion Law Firm.

It s rare I forget to keep my earphones with me just in case assholes chew or sniff near me.

Most people have never heard of my condition of misophonia, and that sucks.

I nod to the receptionist and continue beyond her and several offices to my own little spot of prestige.

I don t understand why Cage and Lion has the top two floors, eleven and twelve, the seventh floor, and the second floor as their law firm.

It makes much more sense to have all of the floors together, but maybe the rent is cheaper on the lower levels.

My small office has light, rose-colored walls and a wide window that looks out over Silicon Valley.

The bookshelves are oak and my desk glass.

It s one I chose when I accepted the job, and I like it quite a bit.

The decorations are subtle with crystal-framed pictures of my grandfather and me when I was a child, a picture of me and my two besties when we graduated from a stiff and isolated boarding school, and one of my seven renters in the Victorian home I inherited from an aunt I never met. The people in my life who matter.

There s also a stunning and ornate silver mirror on the side wall, between bookshelves. I found the piece at a garage sale after I passed the bar exam, and sometimes when I look at myself in it, I feel strong. I m sure it s the way the light reflects in it, but I ll take all the help I can get.

I cross around to sit in my white leather chair and then look up as a body fills the doorway.

Joseph. I stand to my heels again. We very briefly dated, and I still regret those two weeks.

Oh, he s handsome and smart, but he was looking for either a quick fling or a society lady to make looking good on his arm her entire profession.

I fit neither of those categories, and we parted amicably.

Well, after he told me I was the perfect lawyer because of how cold I am.

I didn t so much like that, even if the words held truth.

Most men bore me for a reason I have never nailed down. Including Joseph Cage.

Sit down, Rosalie, Joseph Cage says, his smile charming and his black hair with just a hint of gray at his temples smoothed back from his tan face. How did it go at the prison?

It was interesting. I sit and cross my legs, tempted to reach for the one remaining red apple from the bowl on the corner of my desk.

I m not sure allowing Alexei Sokolov out into the world is doing anybody a bit of good.

Just saying his name catches my breath in my throat, and I mask the feeling with a cough.

Cage leans against my door frame dressed in black slacks, a white button-down shirt, and a green tie.

His office is, of course, on the top floor, but he does spend time with the associates and paralegals on my floor more than his partner, Jaqueline Lion, does.

A couple of the other associates and I have joked that Cage and Lion probably changed their surnames before they created a law firm to obtain the cool sounding name.

The running agreement is that their names were actually Smith and Patterson.

When we lost Sokolov s case, it was a blow to the entire firm, Cage says. We should have won that one.

I straighten, my ears perking. You think Alexei was innocent?

No. Cage shakes his head, his blue eyes earnest. I do not believe that man was innocent. Yet, there was enough reasonable doubt that we should have won the case.

I move my heavy silver paperweight to the side. Do you think somebody paid off the judge?

Cage shrugs. Dunno. I believe the investigators are still combing through the many charges against the judge, but so far, nothing about Alexei s case has come up. At least we have cause to overturn the verdict just based on the allegations of impropriety.

I need to make another motion to be kept in the loop on that one.

I made the motion to the court earlier, and the clerk said they re expediting those matters.

We could even hear tomorrow, without a hearing.

My brief had been thorough and above attack.

Do you think Alexei s stepmother or stepbrother would ve bribed the judge?

Maybe. I know Hendrix and I sure as hell wouldn t mess with him.

I see Hendrix Sokolov at various events during my time as a lawyer, and he seems both handsome and freezing cold to me.

If people are snakes, he s a Golden Lancehead Viper with its beautiful golden-yellow skin.

I studied reptiles and animals in school but figured spending my time with exotic animals as an adult wouldn t lead to financial security, so I turned to law.

Clearing my throat, I force myself to focus.

Alexei said something about Miles Molasses and his death not being an accident.

Cage s eyebrows rise. Seriously?

I shrug. He could have been blowing smoke, but I think it s something we should investigate. Instinct tells me that Alexei doesn t randomly make statements.

I ll look into it, Cage says. For now, we ve acquired the trial transcripts, the courtroom videos, and all of the evidence used to convict Alexei seven years ago. He nods his head toward a stack of what looks like compact discs on the corner of my desk.

Thanks. I now know exactly what my night will include. Do you remember the case very well?

Cage shakes his head. No. I was involved with a pretty serious RICO case at that time, and Miles Molasses was our best litigator. It was a shock when we lost the case, to be honest, although the Sokolovs had stopped paying us.

They had? I look up. The Sokolovs own one of the most powerful social media companies in the world and have more money than I can imagine. What s the story there?

Cage shoves his hands in his pockets. If I recall, Alexei s mother died when he was young, and his father remarried Lillian Sokolov. She then had two sons, Hendrix... and what was the other one s name?

Cal, I say softly. His name was Cal.

Oh, yeah. The guy who was murdered last month. Cage nods. I forgot about that crime. Did they find who butchered him?

I keep my placid smile in place. I don t know. I have a sneaky suspicion that Thorn Beathach killed Cal Sokolov, but I can t prove it, and I would never ask Alana, his fian-cée, who also happens to be one of my best friends.

I m sure the family has investigators on it, Cage notes, admiring himself in my ornate mirror. But it s my understanding they ll be of no help in this case. They disowned Alexei even before he was convicted of murder.

I see, I murmur.

Cage straightens. Although now that Cal is dead, maybe Hendrix will want another brother to help at the helm.

Not based on the way Alexei had objected to his last name. I ll need to speak with the family.

I agree, and I ll go with you if you like.

Thank you, but I can handle this case.

His gaze warms. Of course. Also, look on the bright side. If you do get a new trial and we get him off, you ll probably score an office on the 11th floor.

I meet his gaze evenly. I m aiming for the 12th.

He chuckles. I know. We all know. With that, he turns and disappears from my doorway.

My ambition has never been a secret, but I m sure they don t understand the reasons behind it.

It s not only money I crave. It s security.

A stack of unpaid bills sits over to the right of my computer to remind me.

My student loans are due, as is payment for the mortgage I took out on my home after inheriting it outright.

But there had been no other alternative.

Not really. I look at the pearl and silver letter opener that had been a present from Alana when I graduated law school, now sitting innocuously on the bills, ready to shred them open and stress me out.

My attention is drawn to the evidence from Alexei s trial.

Idly, I grasp the top disc, noting it was filmed the night of the murder, and shove it in the disc bank attached to my computer.

I had secured the attachment from the basement earlier in the week.

These days, a USB would be used. A lot has changed in seven years.

I ll go through all of the discs later, but I m just curious for a hint of what they might show.

The video appears of Alexei from at least seven years ago. He s smiling with his arm around the neck of another man at a bar, who s laughing and spitting up what looks like beer. Women cling to Alexei s arms, and a stunning blond futilely tries to remove the choke hold, snorting with giggles.

I open a file folder and scan notes and annotated pictures to see that Alexei and his friend Garik Petrov owned the Amethyst Pony.

What a stupid name for a bar. The guy being choked is Garik.

He s around Alexei s age but wears a tattered T-shirt and has forgone a haircut for an immeasurable amount of time.

He seems rough, like he should be the bouncer and not co-owner.

I watch them laugh and joke and goof off on the screen. Alexei looks different. Younger definitely, but more free with fewer tattoos. The panther on his neck must ve been inked while in prison.

When he looks at the camera, obviously knowing he s being videoed, there s still an edge in his eyes.

The same one I saw today. He s dressed in an expensive-looking white shirt with embroidered dragons on each breast, and it s unbuttoned to his navel.

His slacks are black and perfectly creased.

He was slimmer back then, in good shape but not nearly as hard cut as he is now.

On the video, he releases the other guy, and they move past several women trying to grab them, to reach a stage.

Both pick up guitars.

I lean forward, curious. They play a hard rock song and Alexei sings.

His voice is smooth and sexy, even with a hint of devilment in it.

He smiles as he croons about lost love and murderous dragons.

It s impressive. The man can sing. At least he could.

Today in the prison, his voice had been darker, deeper, raw, and more scratched like he d screamed for years.

As I watch, women throw panties and bras onto the stage. He grabs several pairs and laughs, tossing them in the air and catching one. He stops singing, holding white lace panties up. It looks like we have a winner tonight, and they re still warm. Who just pulled these off for me?

A woman shrieks happily from the audience and runs forward, climbing onto the stage wearing a sheer white dress, sans the undies.

She s a young brunette, hopefully at least eighteen.

Pink flushes her face, and her nipples are hard beneath the barely there material.

She hops up and down, her hands clutching at one of his arms.

I guess you won, darlin . He leans over and kisses her, one hand sweeping down to grab her ass, the epitome of a spoiled rich boy accepting a gift. Free drinks for the entire month.

She squeals and presses closer to him.

I note that his business partner has his lips pressed tightly together. So Garik didn t like his buddy giving away booze.

Alexei cuts him a quick look. I ll cover it.

Garik s face relaxes.

The brunette leans up and whispers something into Alexei s ear.

He grins and shakes his head, looking over the crowd to the bar. I m afraid not tonight, sweet thing. I have plans.

I zoom in to study a woman sitting on a bar stool turned to face the stage, her legs crossed with a slit up the sparkling red material that reveals her well-toned thigh.

It s Blythe Fairfax, and her platinum blonde hair is cut with sharp edges across her shoulders, which are bare except for thin spaghetti straps holding up the elegant and sexy dress.

Her lips, painted in matching scarlet, and her eyes, adorned with heavy makeup, complete the look. Her smile looks possessive.

At the time of the recording, Alexei had to be in his early twenties, and she was at least in her late thirties, maybe early forties.

There s no doubt she s beautiful, yet I find it odd that she was so public with their affair.

They hadn t seemed to hide it from anybody.

I scratch a note on a sticky pad to dive deeper into her deceased husband.

Anybody partying at the Amethyst Pony that night would ve clearly seen that the two were involved.

Another figure catches my eye, and I scan the video and zero in on a man at the far end of the bar, surprised to see Hendrix Sokolov standing with a beer in front of him, watching the interplay.

Even ten years ago he was handsome, with blonde hair swept back from his face and intense blue eyes.

He s not smiling and seems to be on alert.

They didn t get along to the point that the family failed to support Alexei during and after the trial.

So what was Hendrix doing at his half brother s bar that night?