Page 5 of Zade (Den of Sin)

I exhale an audible sigh as I turn onto the side street where my house is located, “Your mom was sick, Amira. She wasn’t capable of taking care of you properly. I am. I will meet anybody you intend to spend time with. It’s important for me to know you’re safe.”

Tossing her phone back in her purse, she huffs, “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time, Zade. I don’t need a dad now. I needed you then, but you left. When you divorced her you also divorced me. So, don’t pretend to be the doting parent now when we both know the truth.”

I swallow down the lump in my throat, “You’re seventeen and I know you think you know everything but trust me, you don’t.”

She gazes out the window, I think avoiding my eyes, she speaks so low I’m almost certain her words weren’t meant for me to hear, “Almost eighteen. As soon as I get enough money together I’m leaving.”

Her hatred for me oozes from her in waves. I want to tell her everything that happened but I don’t know how. I don’t want her to think I’m bad-mouthing her mother. Somehow, I know that’s exactly what she’ll think if I tell her what happened to cause me to vanish from her life. I pull into my winding driveway as she gasps, “Someone is wealthy.”

I want to say ‘How do you think you’ve stayed in a private school,’ but I don’t. I keep my lips closed tightly as I park my truck and watch her look around. She jumps out of the truck before I have a chance to make it to her side to open the door. I grab her bags out of the back, as she stands staring at my two story home, her eyes wide, as she takes it all in.

“How much do lawyers make? Jesus,” she gasps.

An attorney that caters to the bad guys that need a good defense? A fuck ton, in my case but I don’t say that. I’m not sure how she’d feel about the types of men I defend and I think she hates me enough already. The fact is, I imagined I’d always stay on the good side, noble, respectable. Putting away the bad guys was satisfying. That was before the Easton family contacted me offering more than I made in a year to represent their son in a murder trial. Of course, I thought they were insane to hire a man with no experience as a defense attorney. Especially since the Arizona District Attorney planned to seek the death penalty in this case. I’m licensed in Arizona and Nevada, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to take the case. In the beginning I flat out refused. However, money talks so I took it and not only did I spare his life but got him off on a technicality. That day a murderer went free because of me and my life changed. I switched sides, and I won’t say I’m always proud of it but I believe everyone is entitled to a fair trial and adept representation. Did I know he was guilty? That’s not a question I ever ask but yeah he was guilty as sin. That doesn’t matter though, he’s still entitled to representation. More than that it was the amount of green that motivated me. At the higher end as a prosecutor I was pushing almost one hundred thousand dollars a year. The Easton family paid me five million dollars to get their kid out of hot water. It’s pretty hard to say no to that, even if you’re a bleeding heart kind of person, which I’m not.

“Come on. I’ll show you the inside.”

* * *

Amira

Zade holds the door open for me, and I’m pretty sure my eyeballs are bulging like a cartoon characters as I step into the massive open concept foyer. A small round wooden table, decorated with white votive candles and a large bouquet of various flowers, sits behind what appears to be a set of stairs. The floor is made of white marble with gold accents throughout. As I walk forward to the front of the staircase, Zade chuckles at my gasp when I see something I’ve never seen before. The stairway starts at one side, goes all the way up and then down the other side, giving the appearance of a double set of stairs. On the one side of the room is the door we came through, the other side has two sets of french doors, that lead I don’t know where yet.

As if he can read my mind he grins, “There’s a pool and sitting area on the other side of the French doors.”

Taking my hand he takes me to the right instead of up the stairs, “I’ll show you the second floor in a minute.”

I follow him to a dining room with a large table then around into the kitchen with appliances to rival a professional chef's set up. It has an island in the middle with a graphite countertop and white cabinets underneath. The floor is more of the marble but there are no gold accents in here, instead it’s got gray to match the island, as well as the counters by the sink. I notice all the cupboards are white with gray accents. The stainless steel side-by-side refrigerator is massive. I open the doors taking a peek inside and see it’s fully stocked like he’s expecting company or having a party. My gaze travels to the ceiling ‌and I spot the beautiful gold and gray chandelier. Wow. It’s breathtaking. Two lights that match the chandelier hang above the sink.

“Impressive.”

“Most of the house is open to you. I want you to feel at home here.” I don’t ask what isn’t open to me because I assume he’ll tell me.

We walk back over to the staircase, “You can pick any bedroom you’d like, apart from mine.”

I roll my eyes because obviously I didn’t expect him to give me his room.

We make it to the top and are standing in a large room with a television, two sofas and two large chairs. The gray walls have expensive paintings hanging from them. The one painting features a picturesque background and the other is a beautiful woman with long dark hair hanging down her back. She has a black satin sheet wrapped around her as she looks over her shoulder at her photographer. It’s not pornographic but it is sexy. Suddenly I wonder if he took the photo but I don’t ask. I swallow hard as my cheeks flush, “You can watch TV or read in here. Let me show you the bedrooms.”

I nod, and follow Zade down a hallway, he points to each of the rooms, “Any of these is fine. You choose, I want you to be comfortable here.”

I peruse the first room, more gray walls, a small bed, dresser, and a nightstand. Minimalist decorating. Walking down the hallway I notice one room closed and ask him to open it. He smirks, “It’s locked for a reason and off limits to you.”

I cross my arms over my chest as I glare at him, “Why?”

Zade doesn’t answer which only annoys me. I walk into the last room and say, “This is fine.”

The walls are a beautiful lilac shade; the queen sized bed has a dark purple comforter with silver swirly designs on it. There’s a large Cherrywood dresser and matching end table. I’m instantly in love with the picture that hangs on the wall directly across from the bed, stunning red roses in a silver vase. It’s simple but gorgeous.

“Do you like this room?”

He sounds as nervous as I am as I nod, “Yes, and I love the picture. Red roses are my favorite.”

I glance at him and once again ask, “What’s in the locked room?”

Zade looks annoyed like he doesn’t appreciate questions, “It doesn’t matter because I’ll never allow you to go in there.”

Raising an eyebrow I say, “It only makes me want to see it more. It makes me,” I chew on my bottom lip, “curious.”

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