Page 2 of Throttle

“Aw, are you afraid, Little Miss Lawyer?” Tony cocks his head, a wildness now forming in his eyes. He looks unhinged, as if, at any moment, he might push back from the table and strangle me.

“No,” I force out, trying to mask my quivering voice. The truth is I’m absolutely terrified, but any form of weakness would only encourage his scare tactics.

“Then you must be stupid,” he snarls.

“Mr. Bertelli?—”

“Here’s the thing.” Tony reclines in his chair, surveying the room before settling his villainous stare on me once more. “If by some stroke of luck, you end up winning this case, well then… good for you. I guess. You walk away a free woman.”

My icy hands tremble around my cup, seeking warmth from the hot beverage. I’m quickly losing the reins on my composure, and it’s starting to show.

“But, if I end up in prison, little girl… it won’t be my ass that’s done for. It’ll be yours.”

I swallow the thick lump forming in my throat. “Are you?—”

“My men remain loyal, no matter where I am. You think my empire will fall because I’m locked up?” Tony scoffs and shakes his head. “Like anyone else I employ, if you prove to be worthless… well, my men have very special plans for you, Little Miss Lawyer.” The taunting nickname echoes in my head. “Am I making myself clear?” Tony lifts a brow as he edges forward in my direction, glowering at me.

I’m so fucked.

I can confidently say I utilized every tactic I know to sway the verdict in our favor. But it’s as though the universe itself wants this man behind bars. And if that happens, I’m a dead woman. Once the court gives Tony Bertelli his verdict, they’ll be giving me mine as well.

I nod my understanding. “Crystal.”

“Good,” he sneers at me before finally reaching for his coffee. He finishes it off in one go, then throws the empty cup at me, barely missing my face. Remnants of the dark amber liquid splash on my blouse, immediately bleeding into the fabric.

Asshole.

“You better pray for a fucking miracle, Little Miss Lawyer. Not for my sake, but for yours.”

My pulse races as I hold my breath while standing next to my client behind the defendant’s table. But years of practice allow me to remain poised under pressure as we await the verdict.

Judge Michaels addresses the jurors, specifically the foreman of the group. “On the four counts of murder in the first degree, how do you find?”

“We, the jury, find the defendant, Anthony Thomas Bertelli, guilty of murder in the first degree on all four counts.” The foreman never looks in Tony’s direction, handing over the verdict sheet to the bailiff before taking his seat.

It’s a good thing I’m so familiar with trial proceedings because suddenly, the only sound I’m aware of is the whooshing of blood thundering in my ears. I’m dazed, as if I’m moving in slow motion while watching everyone else act in real time. Judge Michaels slams down his gavel on the podium, and thankfully it brings me back to my senses. My eyelids flutter, the muffled sounds of the court growing louder as the jury is excused. Tony’s guards move behind him, roughly pulling him from his place at the defendant’s table to lead him from the courtroom.

I feel the venomous flames of his scowl, as I’m positive he’s envisioning my mangled body buried deep underground. I turn to watch him leave and suck in a sharp breath.

“You’re dead,” he mouths before disappearing through the doors.

Fuck.

2

THROTTLE

It’s always a good idea to end the night with a nice, cold beer. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

I plant my ass down at the bar. I need a fucking drink. Tapping once on the mahogany wood, I signal for the bartender. His hand disappears beneath the counter and retrieves a chilled bottle—he already knows what I like. After he sets it in front of me, I wave him off as I pull my phone from my back pocket. My texts are blowing up, and I’m already guessing what it’s about. Today was the verdict reading for Tony Bertelli.

Clicking on the link sent by one of my brothers, I’m transferred to an online article about the trial.

Well-known Gallo family crime associate, Tony Bertelli, found guilty on all charges.

Serves that motherfucker right.

I’d never call myself a saint, but with the amount of shit Tony and his men have done, he needs to be taken down. They don’t care who they hurt to get what they want. And that’s the difference between them and the Satan’s Disciples MC.

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