Page 8 of Rio (Knight Empire #3)

Two months later …

RAQUEL

“I can’t wait to see you,” Dani squeals.

“I can’t wait, either. See you soon!” I hang up.

While I love talking to Dani, it brings back the ghost of Rio, and trying to forget him is a battle I’ve been mostly winning these days. Rich men like Rio—charming and smooth and best avoided—are my worst nightmare.

In my legal career I’ve seen how the system protects the wealthy while crushing everyone else, so I’ve known that these are not my people. He is everything I hate, yet for the life of me, I don’t understand why I’m still so drawn to him.

Sure, I’ve approached men in bars before. It’s how I know they’re not afraid of a strong woman. Of a woman who may possibly earn more than them, or be in a higher position than them. I like to know these things upfront.

Rio was charming, smooth and sexy. He was flirty and fun.

We are similar in some ways, and that surprised me most of all.

Dani told me about the two sets of brothers, about the secret mistress, about Paul Knights’s wife, about the suicide.

I didn’t know that about him the first time I met him, but by the time of Dani’s wedding, when I invited him into my hotel room that night, I knew his childhood trauma and story.

This man isn’t just a stud or a player. He has heart and his outer shell is at odds with the deeper, wounded, quietly loyal man underneath. Dani says he loves his mom. He’d do anything for her and I believe her, because that night Rio spoke of her lovingly.

He makes me feel things I haven’t felt in years and he also makes me feel reckless, a little dangerous, a little too eager to do things that are out of my comfort zone. I feel like he could wreck me in the best and worst ways.

It took me a while to stop thinking about him after that night in S?o Paulo. A month later, I got a traumatic phone call from Dani, crying and sobbing, and telling me what Paul Knight had done.

She confessed to everything. Her and Dexter’s marriage of convenience, and why she’d done it.

I knew it.

I knew something was off, though at the wedding reception, they seemed to be so much in love. Then she told me about Paul Knight and the dirty trick he played on Uncle Arminio, Dani’s father, wresting control of AO Electronica away from him.

I was raging with fury after that phone call. Dani didn’t stop crying. In between sobs she told me she’d had enough, that she was sick of the Knights. I offered to look over all the contracts Paul Knight had given her and her father, and that was when I saw how dirty these Knights can play.

I should have flown out to be by her side, and to take care of her but Pierce kept me busy. I was stressed, overworked, exhausted, and still wrestling with that sleazy man, and the guilt at hearing Dani sob over the phone, knowing I needed to be there, ate away at me.

I was furious, because I was right.

She’d married into the worst, most dysfunctional family around.

Filthy rich bastards.

I did the right thing to have walked away from Rio Knight.

After that, I helped her through it. Told her she needed to go to the Dominican Republic if she wanted to get a quickie divorce.

I had no idea she was thinking about marrying Oscar Ramos.

If I had, I would have flown out and physically restrained her from doing such a thing.

I just assumed she needed the divorce to be free of the Knights.

Now she’s coming to visit me next weekend, with Dexter.

I’ve been meaning to meet her in person to figure out what’s going on with her.

To find out what the hell she’s doing with her life, because she’s now back with Dexter Knight.

I’ve been too busy, and so has she, so this weekend will be great for a catch-up.

Life for my bestie has been nothing but a roller coaster life ever since Dexter Knight landed in it.

She sounds genuinely happy. I even called her parents, on another pretext, and they assured me that this is real.

That Dex saved Dani. My head naturally spins at the story but I’ll get it all out of her soon.

Talking to her brings back thoughts of Rio even now, months later. There’s too much drama around the Knights. I don’t know what to make of it. Dani, in love. I don’t know what Dex does to her, but she’s still with him.

That part, I don’t understand.

What a crazy family. What a crazy father. I did my best to avoid Rio but it wasn’t easy when he kept calling and texting me. I only contacted him the one time, when I was helping Dani, and I told him that she’d left Dex and was getting a divorce.

Then I ghosted him again. I considered blocking him, but that would have been childish and petty. His texts suddenly stopped and the hectic pace of my job kept me distracted, though at night, I’d lie in bed thinking of him more than I should have, trying to analyze why he’d stopped texting.

Had he found someone?

Why did I care?

I consoled myself by saying it was for the best.

It’s after 9 p.m. and the office is deserted.

The only sign of life is the glow of my screen.

My inbox is overflowing. My back aches, and I’ve read the same contract clause three times, but I don’t want to leave yet.

An empty apartment doesn’t appeal, but next weekend will be different.

I’m excited but apprehensive about my friends coming.

My eyes land on the folder that Pierce left on my desk, telling me to give it a quick look. I open it and start reading.

SUBJECT: NGO Pro Bono Request – Blue Star Eco Resort Construction Dispute (Belize)

Attached are more documents from EcoGuardians International, a nonprofit we’ve partnered with before, but not the Belize office.

I continue reading. They’re requesting “early-stage legal review” of a land dispute involving a new luxury development, the Blue Star Eco Resort.

The community claims environmental damage—mangrove destruction, reef contamination and contaminated drinking water among other issues.

The phrasing in the documents is cautious. They’re worried, and I’m assuming it’s because they’ve been burned before. There’s mention of questionable permits, a shell developer, and locals losing access to their only clean water source. My heart begins to hammer in my chest.

I love projects like this. Passion projects which fuel me and give me a sense of doing something good for the planet and the people who are affected.

This is something I can get my sharp teeth into.

A resort that calls itself eco-friendly while poisoning the coastline?

I can’t wait to dive in, though I’m surprised Pierce wants me to look at it.

He hates me doing pro bono work, and prefers paid clients, whereas I like pro bono work.

Justice shouldn’t depend on the size of someone’s wallet, and many environmental and indigenous communities can’t afford top tier legal representation.

I like that I can give them a voice. Pro bono work lets me fight for what I truly believe in—saving ecosystems, protecting marginalized communities, and holding corporations accountable.

I’ve seen how money dictates outcomes and how it buys silence or wins dirty.

“I knew I’d find you here.”

I jolt. Pierce’s voice oozes into the room like cheap cologne. I set the papers down, bracing myself.

He steps inside without invitation, leaning against my doorframe, tie loosened like he’s attempting nonchalance.

He’s in his early sixties, self-assured, smug, and trying his hardest to look at least a decade younger.

This man has a year-round tan, and the kind of perfectly manicured hands that have never known hard work.

His hair has been a work in progress. It’s been thinning at the crown for years, giving glimpses of scalp showing under harsh office lighting.

A few months ago, he turned up at the office with a surprisingly dense head of hair.

Hair plugs, probably. Maybe he hadn’t gone for a weekend in the Hamptons as he’d alleged, but made a visit to Hollywood’s finest surgeons because it wasn’t the only change I noticed.

His jawline was tighter than I remembered and those slight jowls he once had, had miraculously vanished.

Even the familiar lines on his brow were gone.

Now he has a perpetually wide-awake look of a someone who is always surprised.

“You’re here late. Don’t you have anything better to do? Anyone to see?”

I hate his nosiness.

“I’m looking at the eco resort case from the NGO in Belize.”

“Ah, yes. Locals are upset. Whining about the luxury resort. Something about mangroves and coral reef damage.”

“They have every right to be outraged,” I snap. “They need a voice. Someone who will step into the boxing ring and take on this fight. Someone like me”.

He makes a sound between a laugh and a sigh. “It’s pro bono, and you’re too smart for charity.”

“They flagged it as an environmental justice concern,” I say, evenly. “There may be a violation of the Indigenous Land Rights Act—if the permits were pushed through the way they’re suggesting—”

“You sound so passionate about these things.” His smile tightens.

“Because this is what fuels me. I enjoy taking on greedy corporations and making them accountable.”

He shrugs, giving off mixed signals again. “Why did you want me to look at this?”

“They asked for an early-stage legal review. That’s something that usually in-house work, but they want an outside perspective.” He shrugs. “They probably want someone idealistic to give them a pat on the back. I thought of you.”

I frown. “Why?”

He pauses for longer than is comfortable, before offering an oily smile. “Because I need to keep you sweet. Give you the occasional carrot to get you to stay.” Another slippery smile that make my stomach turn. He’s not holding back. Maybe he can tell I’m getting itchy feet.

“Do you want me to pursue this or not, because I’m already buried in the Santos arbitration and if we don’t push back hard this week, our client risks defaulting on a multi-million-dollar federal contract. I can’t just drop it to fly to Belize and babysit some NGO land dispute.”

“Skim through it, but don’t spend all weekend buried in it.”

“I’ll skim through it,” I say, returning to the papers.

I wish he’d vanish into the night, but he hesitates, watching me like he’s about to say something else, and I fear that its going to make my skin crawl.

But he doesn’t go there. Instead, he says, “These kinds of cases eat up your time and spit you out with nothing to show for it. You’re better than that, Raquel.”

This only confuses me further. On one hand he wants me to look it over, and then with the other, he’s slightly pissed that I will.

“Thanks for the concern.”

“I’m always concerned about you.” His snakish smile creeps back in. “You’ve got a great future here, but only if you stay focused.”

I shuffle my papers, pretending to read, but he’s staring at me. I feel his dirty gaze raking over me, and I freeze.

You’re the reason I need a future somewhere else.

“Any plans for this weekend?” he asks, “Or are you just sitting alone in your apartment?”

Always fishing for personal information.

His words make my flesh crawl like an army of ants have just soldiered over me. I look straight at him, not smiling, and shrug. “The usual. Female serial killer documentary and ice-cream.”

He heads towards the door, mumbling, “I’ll uh-leave you to it then.”

I wait five seconds then exhale through gritted teeth.

My gut says something’s off but the papers on my desk say opportunity.

And right now, I need one. I continue reading through them again.

There’s something here, I can feel it. I’d rather lose a case fighting for something real than win one that helps a billionaire dodge accountability.

More than anything, I want to build a career based on impact, not income, and I don’t care about money as much as I care about leaving behind a reputation for standing up to power, inspiring other women, and changing lives. That’s the kind of lawyer I want to be.