From Chapter 1
Zander recalls these images not to relive them.
But to dance the space between heaven and hell. The ocean is an inch between ecstasy and misery. Like all things long since forgotten, young love always remains the most crippling of pain.
Zander Wright is aware of this.
He’s felt the fatal blow of being love-struck—bludgeoned violently over the head with the taste and feel of utopia in his arms and his bed.
The grotesque and sublime slam into him all at once, he tries to push through, he tries forcing it down, but still, it bubbles up. For once he doesn’t release it, he holds onto it, until it solidifies in his soul.
He knows he’ll never let go. Not now and not ever. Not even if it kills him.
And it surely will kill him, one of these days.
Zander raps his fingers on the table, impatiently going over the extensive legal jargon. The leather feels plush and comfortable as he leans back into his chair. The office is spacious and almost too large for one person alone, but Carlisle has insisted.
There’s a large bookshelf in the far corner, hefty enough to fill a library with nearly dozens upon, dozens of cases. Zander read them all.
Not by choice of course, but by necessity. He lives and breathes his work.
Case files lay stacked on his desk, untouched because of the sheer amount of work he still needs to get through.
“Is this all of it?”
The intern nearly jumps, his small lithe frame looking even smaller in his black slacks and white crisp dress shirt. He’s native American, with beautiful tan skin and dark piercing eyes, rimmed with glasses “Yes Mr. Wright.”
Zander looks back at the file, his eyes greedily taking in every single word. The whole case was fucked up. Even as he read more about the people involved, he felt his stomach coil in disgust. Sometimes he wonders why he became a defense attorney in the first place.
You know why.
“Sick fuck,” He mutters under his breath, before tossing the file on the table.
The case is straightforward: billionaire tycoon caught raping an underage girl and somehow thought throwing money at the problem would make it all go away. However, more women started coming out, accusing the defendant of being a rapist.
“A friend of my father’s you said?”
“Yes, Mr. Wright.”
Even after all the evidence proved that the man was guilty, he still had the fucking gull to plead “not guilty”. It was hard to argue against his DNA found in a rape test. Zander knew he had to take this case on, it was expected of him.
His face hardens.
“These are the police reports. I’ve sealed them to make sure nobody has access to them.” Zander says, placing them in a filing cabinet near his desk, and then Zander hands another file over to him. “Seth, take the case report back to Tanya and tell her that I want Mr. Dmitriev in my office Thursday morning at nine am sharp.”
“Yes, Mr. Wright,” Seth says, snatching the file away and nearly sprinting out of the room.
Zander takes a deep breath, loosening his silk fitted Armani jacket.
If this were a normal day, he would have yelled at Seth for not bringing these files in sooner. His father wanted this situation dealt with as quickly and discreetly as possible.
However, today was unlike any other day. His fingers twitch with anticipation as he wills himself to calm down.
Zander moves from his chair, eager to get the blood pumping and not to dwell on the reason why it feels like his heart wants to burst from his chest.