Page 8 of Forbidden Devotion

Ididn’t get much sleep that night. Not because I was worrying, no; I was preparing.

In truth, that big reward I was looking at was only possible because I was taking a big risk. Yes, it was a good case, and yes, I was almost certain I could win, but victory was never guaranteed, no matter what I’d said to my client’s son. I shouldn’t have said what I did—rule number one was to never promise anything, especially not an outcome.

You could be the best lawyer in the world, but if you get stuck with the wrong judge, your whole case could go down the drain.

Not to mention just who my client was. I’d promised a win, which I should have never done, but more importantly, I’d offered a win to someone who could easily drive me out of the city if I didn’t deliver. Hell, the Marino family could drive me out of the city on a whim if they wanted. I couldn’t lose the life I’d finally started building for myself now that my work was getting me somewhere.

And that was completely ignoring the fact that they could kill me.

I felt a shudder run down my spine and tried to ignore it. Yes, this was dangerous. Yes, I’d jumped in without really thinking about all the possible drawbacks. But no, I did not wish I’d turned it down.

It was a good case. I didn’t just take it because I had a chip on my shoulder and something to prove, even if I could admit both were true. I really did have confidence that I could win this. I just had to build an ironclad argument.

By the time the sun rose, I’d confirmed the shipping route from Porto Cabimas to here, the number of transfers along the way, submitted an official request for a copy of the warrant and had started compiling a list of the notable good deeds done by my client in recent years.

Was he a mob boss? Yes. Did he consistently give back to the community? Again, yes.

Granted, those good deeds often looked like PR stunts, but he did them nonetheless. And no one could claim he used dirty money for them, given the success of his legitimate businesses. The Marino family held seemingly absolute ownership of every hotel, casino, strip club, and restaurant in their territory. So, basically, most of Chicago. They had insane amounts of money, and according to tax documents, every last penny they had could be traced back to a legitimate source.

Andrea Marino was a perfect example of a well-known secret.

Everyone knew what he really did, but nothing could ever actually be pinned on him. I was going to make sure this drug charge would slide off of him just as smoothly.

There was still a lot I needed to do, though. I had to start with the information on that warrant; I had to find out which judge signed it and when, and from there, I would probably be able to figure out why. If I was incredibly lucky, the ‘evidence’ needed for the warrant would be patchy, speculative, or otherwise easily disproved, but I wasn’t betting on it based on what Richard told me.

He said the police had gone directly to the drugs like they’d known where they were ahead of time. However, they had found out it was legit.

Still, there was only so much Richard was able to tell me. He’d been very thorough, and so far, none of it had come up as false information, but that didn’t mean he knew everything. So, after filing a request for the officers’ bodycams, I prepared to visit the jail.

There was just one issue I had to deal with first—my bosses.

As a junior partner I had little authority, and with my partners in particular, I had none at all, so the news that I had taken the case without them knowing was not going to be taken well. Still, I couldn’t hide it, especially because any and all related mail would be sent to the office address. They were going to find out, and there would be a backlash. I just hoped I was prepared for it.

I knocked on Mr. Dark’s door frame, peeking my head inside. He was the most analytical of the three senior partners, which made him lethal in the courtroom but also ensured that a rational argument might convince him.

Mr. Dark was in his late fifties, with already gray hair, possibly stress-related, and a short, neatly trimmed beard. Facial hair was generally difficult to pull off as a lawyer because it could so easily look unkempt or dirty, but it made him look less like the shark he was and more like a kind grandpa. It put jurors at ease.

Subtle psychological manipulation was an art, and the courtroom was a canvas.

Mr. Dark looked up at me, adjusting his wire-frame glasses. “Miss Kylin,” he acknowledged. “What do you have for me?”

Nothing. I’m an attorney, not a goddamn delivery girl.

“I just wanted to inform you that I have taken a case and scheduled a meeting with my client at Cook County at 3:00 pm.”

I tried not to show my fear as Mr. Dark’s eyes narrowed, sweeping me with a critical eye. I would have to go from the office straight to the correctional facility, so I had opted to wear a tan pantsuit with a flowy white blouse and put my hair up in a tidy bun so I could look appropriately professional. With any luck that was helping me now.

Mr. Dark leaned back in his chair, crossing his ankles. “Without consulting us?” he asked archly. I pulled on my prepared rebuttal.

“While I am a junior partner, I am a partner. This is the position you hired me for. I took this case because it’s as close to a certain win as you can get, and I am fully confident in my ability to produce that outcome, so I request that you allow me to do so.” Mr. Dark pursed his lips together, but he didn’t immediately dismiss me, and that was something.

“Tell me about the case,” he demanded, acting as though he was humoring me. Trying not to show my fear, I looked directly into his sterile eyes.

“Richard Marino came to the office yesterday,” I said. I paused, figuring he might not need me to continue, and I was right. Immediately, his face went dark, his legs uncrossing.

“You signed the Marinos?” he hissed. I kept my calm, but inside, my heart was pounding. They couldn’t fire me for this, for just doing my job, but based on the look on Mr. Dark’s face, he would find some other minor infraction to fire me over instead. I’d have to watch my steps closely until this case was over.

“You know it’s a solid case,” I said simply. “You would have taken it too if it weren’t for the name attached.” Mr. Dark became even more visibly angry, his face turning almost purple.

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