I groan, dropping my head in my hands. I was supposed to be governor, and after that—who knows? I had dreams, big dreams. White House dreams.
Now, those dreams are dead in the water.
I’m nothing. I’m nobody.
I’m a corrupt municipal politician.
I groan.
Idiot!
I sigh as the phone rings, bracing myself for more deflections, more explanations, more invoking of the Fifth Amendment.
I don’t feel much better by the time I get to the lawyer’s office. Cheryl nods to me and gestures to a chair in the lobby. “I’ll be right here.”
I nod.
A pretty receptionist in a tight pencil skirt leads me down a glass hallway towards a conference room. She brings me a coffee with a smile.
“They shouldn’t be too long.”
“Sure,” I answer. My heart is thumping and my palms are sweaty. Some people hate dentists, but I hate lawyers. Their offices are pretentious, and they’ll suck you dry if you let them. I’m expecting to be talked down to, and then made to feel special, and finally told to open my wallet.
What I don’t expect is to hear raised voices coming through the wall behind me. I lean back, turning my head to listen.
“…It’s a conflict of interest! I won’t do it.”
There’s a muffled voice, that’s obviously trying to calm this woman down.
“He’s my brother-in-law…. Yes, I know there’s no law against it, but I can’t do it. I won’t…. I won’t.”
I take a deep breath. Whoever that client is, he’s a poor bastard if he can’t even get his lawyers to take him on. His case is fucking doomed.
At least I’ve got deep pockets and it wasn’t a problem to get the best criminal law firm in the city. Apparently, they have a criminal defense lawyer who specializes in corruption cases.
Lucky fucking me.
A door slams. A couple seconds later, two men and two women come streaming through the door. I don’t see any of them though, except for the last woman to walk in. She’s tall, with dark blonde hair and curves like I’ve never seen before.
Then, I see her face. She looks at me with so much anger, so much venom, so much hatred, that the other shoe finally drops.
She was the woman next door, and the poor sap who can’t even get his lawyers to want him?
Yeah, that’s me.
My heart sinks to my stomach as the woman takes the farthest seat she can. She doesn’t look at me, instead just folding her hands on the table and staring straight ahead. A vein is pulsing in her neck, and her whole body is trembling.
She’s furious.
I stare at her curiously, and she ignores me. It’s… kind of hot.
Who am I kidding? It’s fucking hot. I’d love to bend her over this table and fuck the anger right out of her. I bet she’s an animal between the sheets. She could dig those French-manicured fingernails into my back. She could bite me and scratch me all she wanted until she begged me for more.
“Mr. Mayor,” the other woman says, and my head snaps towards her. I clear my throat, getting up to shake the hand she extends towards me. “I’m Theresa Gregg. I’m the managing partner here.”
“Of course. Nice to meet you, and please, call me Adrian.”
She smiles, motioning for me to take a seat. The other woman hasn’t looked at me at all. I try not to smile, but I’m secretly loving this. There’s nothing I like more than a challenge, and she’s just asking for me to take her on.
Then, I remember what I heard through the wall and my heartbeat slows.
Brother-in-law.
My eyes widen and I glance at her again, and I see it. The fine, graceful nose, the blonde hair, the sharp blue eyes.
Her sister is married to my brother. The brother that I haven’t spoken to in over a year. The brother who chose his wife over his family. The brother who betrayed me by giving away all my leverage to the one person that shouldn’t have gotten it. The brother who currently holds one little USB key with my future stored on it.
This woman is Stella King.
I feel that same anger brewing inside me, white-hot and pure. I clear my throat and nod to Stella.
“I can’t work with her.”
She finally swings those blue eyes my way, and a cruel smile paints itself on her face. Theresa stutters.
“My point exactly,” Stella says. She pushes her chair back. “Excuse me.”
She only takes two steps before Theresa holds up her hand. “Sit. Down.”
Stella freezes, her back arching up as she raises her chin. Theresa nods to the chair that Stella just vacated and after a tense pause, she sits down. She’s fuming, and my cock throbs despite myself.
I’d fuck that woman every way to next week, and I’d love every second of it.
Unfortunately, she represents everything that’s gone wrong with my term as mayor. Stella’s eyes land on me and I see the depth of her hatred for a moment, and then she sighs.
Theresa clears her throat. “Stella just won a very similar case with a big developer. It wasn’t as high-profile as this one, of course, but the bones are the same. She’s the most thorough, conscientious, stubborn lawyer I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. Firing her from this team would be a very big mistake.”
Theresa stares at me for a beat, letting her last words sink in. Her eyes are hard, and she swings them towards Stella.
“And Ms. King. This is a career case. This will make you.”
“This is municipal politics, Theresa. It’s not making anyone’s career.” She stares at me pointedly. “And plus, he’s a piece of shit.”
A couple people in the room inhale. I hold her gaze as a smile tugs at my lips. Her blue eyes are blazing, and that vein in her neck is still pumping hot blood.
I nod to her boss. “She can stay.”
Stella makes an exasperated noise, but Theresa throws her a glance and she says nothing. I fight to keep the grin off my face.
Adrian: 1, Stella: 0.
3
Stella
I hate his stupid smirk. I hate his stupid dimples. I hate his stupid hair and how perfectly it sits on his stupid little head.
I can’t even look at him without feeling my blood boil.
And Theresa! I thought she’d understand. I thought when she realized that his brother was married to my sister, she’d take me off the case. But then, she told me that was the whole reason she’d put me on it.
She said a personal connection isn’t a conflict of interest. She said my dislike of him would probably help me look at the case objectively. It would help me get into the mind of the public, since it was likely to become a media circus.
So here I am, sitting in a conference room a couple feet away from the man who tried to ruin my sister’s life. I steal a glance at him as he nods along to what Theresa is saying. His eyes flick to me for an instant, and the anger inside me burns brighter.
There is one redeeming thing about this: the case is a mess. He took a campaign donation from a small construction company and promised them a huge development project they couldn’t handle. The tender was a mess, and there’s no way anyone in their right mind would have awarded the contract to Hansen Constructions.
It’s blatant corruption.
He deserves to go away for this.
But somehow, I have to defend this guy.
No, ‘guy’ is too generous. I have to defend this excrement. This sub-human. This pseudo-handsome, arrogant, good-for-nothing… ugh. I don’t even have words for how awful he is. Even thinking of insults makes me feel worse. I take a deep breath and try to focus on what Theresa is saying, but all I can think about is how much of a mess this is.
What am I supposed to tell Ashley now? How am I supposed to explain this one?
‘Oh, hey, my boss thought it was great that I hate this guy, because it wouldn’t cloud my judgement.’
Yeah, that’ll fly. She’ll understand.
Not.
She’s h
aving a baby, she’s under financial stress, her husband’s brother is plastered all over the news, and now she has to deal with me, too.
I’m the worst sister, defending the worst brother in the universe. Anger makes my eyes water, and I hate myself for it.
If I start crying in a business meeting, I’ll never forgive myself. So instead, I focus on Adrian. His shirt is expensively tailored.
Arrogant ass.
His shoulders strain against the silky material as he adjusts his tie.
So full of himself.
He leans forward, licking his lips in concentration as he reads something that Theresa pushes over to him. My heart thuds, and I look away. His lips are plump, almost feminine.
My whole body is burning up. I can’t think straight. There’s a jug of water on the table, and I pour myself a glass. A drop splashes beside the glass and I wipe it away with my sleeve. I take a big gulp and feel a stare on my face.
He’s looking at me, with that stupid arrogant smirk on his face. He arches an eyebrow and then goes back to reading the file in his hands.
God, I hate him.
I hate his guts.
There is no one in this world that I hate more than this man.
Mercifully, Theresa calls the meeting to a close and everyone’s chair scrapes back. Adrian doesn’t move, and I make a beeline for the door. As soon as I’m in the hallway, I take a deep breath and head for my office.
Safely inside, I plop into my chair and groan.
This is a nightmare. This is worse than a nightmare, because a nightmare would end when I wake up. There’s no waking up from this. It just goes on, and on, and on, until everything in my life falls apart.
I can already tell that this case is going to be the kind of case that sucks the life out of me. It’ll take every waking minute to deal with the press, and the paperwork, and I’ll have to work double time to keep up with everything.
And for what?
For a guy who doesn’t even have the decency to try to patch things up with his brother. For a guy who not once apologized to my sister for what he did. For a guy that just sat there, smirking at me.
He knows what he did
Tears sting my eyes and I brush them away angrily. I need to get a grip. This is happening whether I like it or not. I sit up straighter and take a deep breath to compose myself.
I can deal with this. I can handle it. Ashley will understand.
It’s just work. I don’t have to like the guy; I don’t have to speak to him. My sister will get it. She has to.
I try to look at my computer screen, but all the letters are blurring together. I drop my head in my hands and groan.
I jump when there’s a knock on the door. I sniffle, straightening myself up and taking a deep breath to compose myself.
I clear my throat. “Come in!”
Regret instantly floods through me. Adrian Maguire steps through the door, closing it behind him.
“Get out.”
“Hold on,” he says, lifting his hands up. “Just… give me a minute.”
“My billing rates are expensive.”
“I can afford it,” he grins. Stupid fucking dimples. I motion for him to continue. “Look,” he starts. “I think we can make this work. I don’t want to cause you grief. We’re both professionals. From the sounds of it, this is a good case for your firm.”
I arch an eyebrow. “What the fuck do you care about my firm? From what I know about you, you only care about yourself.” I shake my head, scoffing. “And you call yourself a professional? Remember when you got my sister fired from her job? Or how about when you got your brother to threaten her? Huh? Was that professional?”
He drops his hands and takes a deep breath.
“I deserve that.”
“Wow, how big of you to admit that.” I roll my eyes.
That smirk appears on his face again, and it enrages me that he’s enjoying this. He’s supposed to hate me as much as I hate him. He’s supposed to avoid me, and only speak to me when he absolutely has to. I’ll win his case for him, and then we can never see each other again.
It’s simple. Easy. Clean.
I shake my head, widening my eyes at him. “Look, I’ll work your case as best I can, because I actually am a professional. But I’m not going to be your fucking friend, okay? Now, it’s been about three minutes. I’ll invoice your office.”
He chuckles, and I hate that it reverberates in my chest. His voice is low and growly when he responds, and warmth spreads through the pit of my stomach. My cheeks burn.
“Come to dinner with me. We can clear the air.”
My jaw drops open as I consider his question. His piercing, icy-blue eyes drill into mine as he takes a step forward. He flexes his hands, arching his eyebrows and opening his palms out towards me.
“What do you say?” His dimples make an appearance as he tries his best smile on me.
I look him up and down, despising how attractive he is.
“Absolutely not.”
And then I turn to my computer and ignore him until he goes away. When the door finally closes after him, I let out a sigh and sink down in my chair. I groan, exhaling in frustration.
This is worse than I ever expected.
I pick up my phone and stare at it for a few minutes. I wonder how I could say this to Ashley. The longer I wait, the worse it gets. Maybe I could just dial her number and explain to her that my boss told me in no uncertain terms that if I don’t work this case, I have to find myself a new job.
And in Denver, with my specialty, there aren’t many options. I’d probably have to move out of state, and that means transferring my credentials, probably taking the bar again—in short, a nightmare.
Ashley would understand… right?
My phone vibrates. Ash just sent me a picture of her pregnant belly, side-by-side with a picture of her before her pregnancy.
Ashley: I can’t wait to get this baby out of me. I just ugly-cried because Liam finished the Nutella.
Stella: Pregnancy hormones?
Ashley: That’s what I’m blaming. Just ten more weeks.
I sigh. I type out a quick answer and then toss my phone in a drawer. This is bad. If she’s biting her husband’s head off for finishing a jar of freaking hazelnut spread, how will she react when I tell her that I’m defending the man who tried to ruin her life?
I can’t do that to her right now. She has enough on her plate.
I get up off my chair and stretch my back, rolling my head from side to side. Then, I sigh. I’m just making excuses. This isn’t about Ashley and how overwhelmed she is. This is about me not wanting to face the reality of my situation.
I sit back down and stare at my computer, and then I finally open Adrian’s file and start working. I may hate the man, but I don’t want to lose my job. I’ll figure out how to talk to Ashley later.
4
Adrian
After the meeting at the lawyers’ office, I give the statement that my staffers write and dodge the multitude of questions that come flying from the reporters. Then, I duck into a car and drive back to the Denver Mayor’s Residence. My 19,500 square foot home already has a dozen reporters outside the gates.
I sigh. I’m sick of this already. This whole thing was more fun when they adored me. My driver opens the gates and honks until the reporters part. They stick their cameras against my tinted windows, and I keep staring straight ahead. The gates close behind us and I glance back, making sure no overzealous reporter has followed me inside.
I nod to my driver. “Take the night off. I’m not leaving here tonight.”
He grunts.
Once I’m safely inside the door, I lock myself in the mansion and look around.
I could lose all this. I’ve only been in this house for just over a year, but it all could be gone once this case goes to court. All the work I did to get here, all the good, honest work I’ve done since I’ve been mayor—it’ll all be gone.
I sit down on an expensive c
ouch and look around at the glass, the marble, the expensive furnishings… it could all be taken away from me in exchange for a tiny jail cell.
The lawyers don’t think it’ll come to that, but it’s still at the back of my mind.
I did it. I took the money; I awarded the contract. It’s hard not to imagine being punished for it. A part of me doesn’t want to fight it. I did it, I should be punished.
Simple.
Sighing, I let my thoughts drift back to Stella. She sat behind her desk like a queen on a throne, and all I could think about was sinking my cock so deep inside her she forgot how much she hated me.
It’s wrong to be this attracted to someone. I don’t know if I’m attracted to her, or to how much she dislikes me. It’s written all over her features, in every movement she makes when I’m around, in every sound that comes out of her pretty little mouth.
And I love it.
My entire life, I’ve been surrounded by people who are just trying to crawl up my ass. My family is rich, and my parents like to flaunt it. So, when I was a kid, that changed the way people treated me.
When I went into politics, it got even worse. Cheryl is the only one who has the guts to say no to me, and even she ends up being full of flattery.
But not Stella King. She doesn’t care about flattery. She wears her emotions on her face, loud and clear. There’s no hiding behind fake smiles and micro expressions. There’s no doubting what she thinks.
She wears her hatred for me like a badge of honor, and I have to respect that.
My doorbell chimes, and I glance towards it. I’m not expecting anyone, and most people close to me would have called. It could be a brave reporter that made his way past my security team, and I have no interest in opening that door.
The doorbell rings again and I sigh, pushing myself up off the couch and trudging towards the front door. I open it up, bracing myself for a deluge of questions.
My eyebrows jump up. “Liam!”
“Hey.”
My little brother stares at me, his face unreadable. Well, ‘little’ probably isn’t the right descriptor. He’s an ex-Olympian who’s taken up weightlifting since he retired. He’s as tall as me, and a bit wider. Right now, his green eyes are dark and stormy.
Ruined: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 2
