Page 4 of Throttle

You lose one case, and suddenly, you’re a liability.

Poised, with my hands clasped gently behind my lower back and my head held high, I stand before the partners at Jones and Hodges Law Firm, PLLC. Disappointment is evident on all their faces, but I hold my tongue against saying something I shouldn’t.

“It might have been best to have someone else represent Bertelli,” Lewis chides. The bastard’s older than dirt and has never truly believed I could handle myself in a courtroom.

“Your father would have never let this happen.”

I know Martin only said this to get under my skin, but I refuse to give the pompous jerk the satisfaction.

Never show your emotions to your opponent, Sienna. Then they’ll know your weaknesses.

I remember my father’s words as barely contained anger teases my lips. The partners wanted a debriefing late this afternoon, as if the verdict today was some kind of surprise. As if they were shocked the monster they agreed we’d represent was found guilty of murdering a man and his family. I know they’re furious because we lost a high-profile case.

Truth be told, I’m more furious with myself than they could ever be with me. I’ve never backed away from a challenge, and I’ve always come out on top. So, losing a case—even one that was impossible to win—has me spiraling in a way I’m not prepared to handle.

My father was a judiciary genius in the courtroom. He could do the impossible and convince anyone of anything. And he knew the law inside and out. For years, I’ve worked my ass off to be like him, and I’d dreamed that maybe someday I could surpass his greatness. But as proud as I am to be his daughter, it’s been a difficult road living in his shadow.

We go over the months of work I put into this case ad nauseam until my voice grows tired. It’s only when I assure them we have grounds for an appeal—not that I really believe I can make that kind of miracle happen—that the partners let me leave the conference room. When I’m finally outside, I take what feels like my first breath in hours.

I hear a comforting, familiar voice coming from my right, and I close my eyes. “How’d you do in there, kiddo?” It’s Lucien, Dad’s best friend and my honorary uncle.

Turning to him, I take one of the two cups of coffee he holds in his hands. He’s dressed in a Carolina-blue button-down with navy slacks, but his matching suit jacket and tie are long gone, considering the late hour. Scruff lightly shadows his chin and jawline, which I know were freshly shaved this morning, and the faint darkness beneath his mischievous green eyes hints at the weariness of the day. He may be maturing and graying at his temples, but Lucien is a handsome man. All the women in the office fawn over him and beg for his attention. I’ve never understood why he remains single, but I’m seeing now that perhaps he’s always been married to his job.

He wraps an arm around my shoulders, and I smile. Dad may not be here, but at least I have Lucien.

“Thank you.” I raise my coffee to take a sip. “I don’t have much ass left from the chewing I received. They’re pretty pissed at me right now.”

“Those old bastards are always pissed off about something. Don’t let them get to you. You’re an amazing attorney, and no one could’ve done a better job than you. Not even me.”

I lift a brow and side-eye him. “You’re only saying that because you’re like a father to me.”

It’s true. Lucien has been a part of my life since the day I was born. My mother passed away when I was a baby, so I don’t remember her. And when Dad died, his best friend stepped in and took care of me as if I were his own, knowing I had no one left. He’s all I have in this world now, and I don’t know what I’d do without him.

“That’s fair, but I still mean it.” Lucien kisses the top of my head and gives me a squeeze. “Go home. Take the rest of the night off and relax. You’ve earned at least as much.”

“Relax? How the hell am I supposed to do that?” My brows furrow while I doubt the tension in my body will dissipate anytime soon.

Because the other cloud looming over my head at this moment is the threat Tony made on my life. I’ve seen several defendants make idle threats in the courtroom over the years, and I’ve never put much stock into their words. But I know what my client and his men are capable of. And I’m sure that was no threat Tony made today. That was a promise.

Lucien stands in front of me and lifts my chin. “Go home, kiddo. I’ll send over dinner, and you’ll take a hot bath and have a glass of wine. Text me before you go to bed so I know you’re okay.”

I see the worry in his eyes, and I cave. “Fine. I’ll try.” I put on a brave face and give him a genuine smile.

He escorts me to my office to gather my belongings from my desk. “See you soon.”

Pressing a kiss to his cheek, I’m reminded of how thankful I am to have Lucien in my life.

The drive home is quiet, but my thoughts are so loud they drown out the radio. With my head in a daze, I pull into the parking lot of my condo, turning the key to kill the engine. Forget relaxing; I need to figure out what the hell I’m going to do about this Bertelli case.

As I make my way to the door, my heels click against the smooth pavement, and just as I reach for the knob, I hear the muted thuds of footsteps echoing in the night behind me. I glance over my shoulder but find no one there. My heart hammers in my chest as I scan the parking lot, seeing nothing except a few cars that seem to have been there a while. I think about Tony’s threat, and my stomach clenches into a knot.

You’re being paranoid, Sienna. Get inside, and you’ll be fine.

I exhale a loud breath, trying to calm my nerves, while I insert the key. I’m going to take Lucien’s advice and draw myself a scalding-hot bubble bath while I drink some wine.

Yeah, that sounds like a good plan.

That’s my last thought as I unlock the door and a steamy breath warms the side of my neck. Then I’m grabbed from behind. Before I can scream for help, my head is rammed forward against the door, the force pushing it open. Almost unconscious, I fall to the ground, my shoulder taking most of the impact with a hard thud. A dark figure steps inside, shoving my crumpled body through the threshold with his foot, then closes the door behind him. He bends down in front of me, but I remain still as his face comes into focus through my blurred vision. His wild gaze scans along my body while I attempt to memorize his facial features.

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