Chapter 2

"Your honor, allow me to present this document - exhibit H. It's an email from the defendant detailing the events a year ago, on November 15. It clearly states that Mr. Daley acquired the services of a hitman-"

"Objections, your honor!" The lawyer flew up out of his seat, gray eyes blazing. "Cause for speculation. The prosecutor is coloring the jury's outlook on the case."

"The defendant himself did that all on his own." She retorted dryly.

"Objection sustained." The judge announced. "I am asking the jury to ignore that and for that to be stricken from the record." Judge Willow Baker bent a steely look on Ryleigh. "Another stunt like that, and I will file contempt charges. Am I clear?"

"Of course," Ryleigh told her smoothly, turning towards the man sweating in the box. Mr. Davis, you are being treated as a hostile witness. Do you have any idea why that is?"

The man's head bobbed up and down nervously, eyes darting to the man seated on the left in his expensive ash-gray suit. "It's because I did not want to testify."

"Can you tell the court why not?"

Davis darted a look at the man again, his eyes sliding away hurriedly. "I am afraid of him."

"And by him, you mean-"

He jabbed a finger in Daley's direction.

"Let the records show that the witness pointed out the defendant."

"Objection!" Another lawyer shot to her feet, her breasts quivering.

"What now?" Ryleigh asked impatiently.

"You are leading the witness."

"Objection overruled." Judge Baker glared at the woman. "Sit down and be quiet."

Hiding a smile, Ryleigh turned back to the man in the box. "Would you like to share the source of your fears with the court?"

"I-" The man sucked in a breath. "Mr. Daley is a terrifying man. I see him slice a man's forearm because he dared to question him about-"

"Objection!" This time, it was both lawyers who rushed to their feet. "The witness is speaking entirely on hearsay."

"I am confused." Ryleigh turned to look at the jurors. "I could have sworn the witness stated that he saw the witness perform the vicious act-"

"Objection!"

"Withdrawn." Turning back to the witness, she could see the man had taken a turn and looked even more frightened than he had been before.

"I am not feeling well," he muttered.

"Would you like a glass of water?" she asked, her spirits plummeting. Somehow, the defendant had gotten to her witness in a few minutes. She could see her carefully prepared cross-examination going straight down the drain.

"I am feeling ill. I need a doctor." The man clutched at his chest.

"Mr. Davis-"

"I need a doctor," he gasped before sliding to the floor. The courtroom erupted into pandemonium, and Ryleigh knew it was over, at least for the day.

*****

Looking up from the court transcript, Ryleigh sighed softly as DA Rosalyn Carter sailed into the office. Closing the door behind her, she went to pour herself a cup of coffee and brought it back with her. Sitting on one of the stuffed chairs, she took a sip, eyeing her friend and protege over the cup's rim.

"Aren't you going to say it?"

"Say what?"

"What a spectacular failure I had at court." Dropping the transcript on the desk's surface, Ryleigh stared at the woman resignedly. "I am thinking it."

"You hit a roadblock," Rosalyn told her smoothly. "We both knew going in that this would not be a walk in the park."

"It's becoming a trip equal to wading in the Niagara Falls. How the hell did Daley get to the witness? We were right there in the courtroom, and suddenly, the man became as white as a sheet and practically comatose. I have ordered some officers to guard him in case he meets 'his untimely death' via a syringe."

With a sigh, she lifted a hand and rubbed the back of her neck. "I don't want him getting away, Rose. The man has done some despicable things and needs to pay for it with his life."

The woman gave her a speculative look. "You have been through a hell of a lot."

"And?" Ryleigh braced for what she knew was coming.

"That scandal rocked the very foundations of this office and you more than anything. You are a damn good prosecutor, but ever since that happened, you have become relentless."

Ryleigh stiffened. "Is that a complaint?"

"Far from it," Rosalyn said smoothly. "But I am just warning you not to allow this to become a banana peel for you. I understand you want to get this son of a bitch but stick to the book."

Ryleigh struggled to reign in her temper. The woman was a friend, but she was also her boss. Diplomacy was necessary; hell was even called for. "I would like to think that my integrity is not questioned."

Rosalyn put away her cup. "I see I have offended you, which was not my intention. You are beautiful and smart, and any man would think it's a feather in his cap to be hooked up with someone like you. Not that weak and pampered asshole you were engaged to. He and several others are the exception. I am not here to give you relationship advice-"

"Good."

"But," Rosalyn continued firmly. "I want to advise you not to allow what he did to color your views. I have been married and divorced thrice, and it's soured me from the noble institution. But I love men, and I love what they can offer.

Find yourself a lover, a hobby, and yes, I know you play tennis and golf, although, for my life, I don't know why. I am saying that you don't allow what happened to you to be the end of everything."

Ryleigh's anger and resentment had drained away in the middle of the speech, and she felt a smile hovering on her lips. "I might take you up on that," she said lightly.

"Good." The woman clapped her hands briskly and rose. "I will leave you to it then. Go home, my dear, and chill. Go to a bar, get drunk, and call an Uber to take you home."

"I don't trust those Uber drivers."

"You are right. Pick up some random man and let him take you home." She said suggestively.

"I will not!"

"Just a thought." The woman smiled at her. "Loosen up and forget this for the weekend. Go shopping and take your mind off work."

"I just might do that."

With a wave, she left the office.

Sitting back in the chair, Ryleigh closed her eyes wearily. Rosalyn just might have a point. She had been using work as an escape hatch so she did not have to think about Glen and how he had betrayed her.

The wedding dress, the lovely champagne silk, and lace had been returned to the store, and her mother and Rosalyn took care of the gifts. He had left some things at her house, and in a fit of pique and rage, she had boxed them up and shipped them to his address.

The other day, she was rooting through her dresser and found a pair of boxers. It had escaped her notice. Taking it out with two fingers as if it would contaminate her, she tied it into a plastic bag and dumped it inside the trash can.

She hated him with a anger that was almost past bearing. He had humiliated her and played her for a fool, and she was still unable to get over him.

Firming her lips, she pushed away from the desk. Maybe it was time to let her hair down.

*****

Flynn pitched the half-smoked cigar into the ashtray and leaned back in the comfortable lounge chair. After losing several thousand to a very exultant, Liam Moses, he escaped the intense card game.

His delight was not over the mountain of chips next to him because it was all going to charity. He was crowing over, finally getting the upper hand in a card game where Flynn's expertise was legendary.

But his mind was not on the game. He had escaped to the club where he was a member to get his head on straight. For the last year or so, he had buried himself in work. His life had been less than straightforward.

Unlike Liam, Adam, and several exclusive club members, he did not come from money. He was the product of a single mother; the man who had planted the seed had left right after hearing that she was pregnant and was killed five years later in a motor vehicle crash.

His mother had worked feverishly to care for him and made sacrifices that Flynn would never forget. At the tender age of ten, he had vowed to her and himself that he would make something of himself. He followed that up by working at a construction site when he was only fourteen and attending high school.

Food and the basic necessities had been scarce, and it had pained his heart to see his mother working three jobs just to survive. When he turned eighteen, he applied for a scholarship and got it. While attending college, he formed essential connections. It helped that he was charming, friendly, and brilliant.

College girls flocked to him, taking him home to meet their parents. He had gone for one main reason: to sit with the rich and influential to learn from them.

His hunger for riches had paid off when he turned twenty-five. The money he saved while working had been put to excellent use.

He picked up the glass of blended scotch and took a sip in appreciation. He had worked hard and long hours because of his hunger to be someone. And to provide for his mother. His daring bets had paid off even beyond his wildest expectations.

He had studied architecture in college and graduated with a double major, which included business. He knew every aspect of construction and had ideas beyond scope.

He did not like the ordinary - whenever he saw a building, there was the compulsion to take it to another level.

He had started with houses, buying and flipping them, then selling them for a handsome profit. His reputation had proliferated, and it helped that he had aligned himself with the right people.

When he turned twenty-five, he was astonished and gratified to realize that his net worth was in the millions, but he had not stopped there. The minute he could afford it, he had taken his mother out of the shabby apartment and set them up in a house he had built from scratch.

He did not mind sharing the place with her because he had an entire wing. And she was delighted and eager to play hostess. She handled the household completely, never bothering him with trivialities like who to hire or what to prepare for dinner.

The downside to his success was that people were always fawning over him and inviting him to some stupid event. Politicians courted him because they needed his financial backing, and women climbed over themselves to be available to him.

With grim determination, he allowed his mind to wander back to Gracie. He had met her at one of those interminably long and tedious dinners and was about to make excuses and take his leave when she came over. Her wit and delicate beauty had caught his attention immediately.

"Surely you are not thinking of leaving?" She had asked in her cultured voice.

"And if I am?"

"I would have to use my superpowers and persuade you to stay."

He usually would have brushed off what was an obvious ploy to get his attention, but the twinkle in her light blue eyes and the smile hovering on her rosebud lips had stopped him.

"What is that superpower?" He asked, playing along.

"Shall we discuss it over drinks?" Linking her hand through his arm, she had led him to the bar, where they spent an hour talking about everything and nothing. He had asked to see her again, and she had laughably told him that she thought he would never ask.

She had fooled him into thinking she was sweet and wonderful and the perfect woman for him until she met his uncle. With a twist of his lips, he swallowed the drink and closed his eyes wearily. He was about to uncoil himself from the chair when the balcony's glass doors were pushed open, and Liam came walking out.

"I wondered where you had gone to."

"I needed some air. And you took all of my money." Flynn did not mind the man at all; he had discovered that Liam Moses possessed an uncanny knack for getting people to open up to him without much effort.

"It's for an excellent cause. Do you mind?" He nodded his dark head towards the opposite chair.

"Not at all." A smile crossed Flynn's lips. "Your politeness is quite refreshing and strange."

"I sometimes portray the manners and good breeding instilled in me by my parents." He flashed Flynn a grin as he lifted his glass. "I am surprised when it surfaces, myself." He gave his friend a curious look. "You looked very retrospective when I came out. Unpleasant thoughts?"

"Something like that."

"Ah." Taking out a gold case from the pocket of his sports jacket, he flipped the tiny switch to reveal thin cigars. Plucking two out, he offered one to Flynn before lighting one himself. "I would tell you she is not worth a minute of your time, but I think you already know that."

"Now and again, she pops into my mind like a nightmare I must wake up from." Flynn blew smoke upwards, inhaling the fragrance. "She wants to meet."

Liam gave him a narrow look. "You said no, of course."

Amusement lit Flynn's eyes, turning the amber into molten gold. The gesture that did not come often softened his harsh features and relaxed the lines of his face. "I told her I wanted nothing to do with her. Lionel dumped her."

"We knew he would." Liam puffed on the cigar furiously. "She did you a favor, or rather, he did. What about him? Has he called to make amends?"

"He is steering clear. I believe he is trying to get my mother to say a word for him."

"Has she?"

"Mother is very protective of me." An indulgent smile came and went. "She told him to go to hell."

"Good for her. I like Julia. You will meet someone."

Flynn's thick black brows lifted. "Is that so?"

Liam nodded. "I have a feeling someone new awaits you just around the corner."

Flynn's rich laughter echoed around the space and provoked a grin from his friend. Liam felt a sense of acute relief that he had accomplished the impossible.

*****

"We have not done this in ages," Michael exclaimed. He quickly glanced at the woman opposite him before picking up his beer. "How are you handling things?"

Ryleigh cast him an amused look as she sipped her beer. "You have been asking me that same question for weeks. And I have been telling you the same thing. I am getting there. Work helps. You help a great deal."

"I wish you would give me permission to kick his ass, both of them." He told her feelingly, dark brown eyes glowering.

"That would hand you in lock up and require me to bail you out. It would also attach too much importance to everything and send the press into another feeding frenzy." She looked around the crowded room, absently noticing the couple in the corner, necking furiously and ignoring the people around them.

It had been ages since she had been to an establishment like this because Glen had firmly told her he had a reputation to consider. "We can go to my country club any time you like. They do serve beers there, you know." He had teased her. She had stopped hanging out with Michael so much because of him, another thing to despise the man for.

"It would have been worth it."

The quiet, deep voice had her turning her attention back to him. Michael Addington was a cop involved in a case she was prosecuting several years ago. They had gone out for a celebratory drink after she had wrapped things up and had become fast friends ever since. He was tall, slim, and outrageously handsome but had never moved on her.

When she first saw him, she felt a flutter inside her stomach and contemplated asking him out, but he had quietly told her that even though he considered her one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, he preferred men.

They had become best friends after that. He did not flaunt his sexual preferences, and she had never seen him with anyone. When she asked him about it, he told her he kept his affairs to himself.

"Would it?" She asked mildly. "I am determined to get my life back, which means dismissing everything, Glen. I would appreciate it if you did the same."

"Okay," he nodded. We cannot talk about your failed relationship, and we certainly cannot talk about work. What's left?"

"Why don't we talk about your relationship?" She asked with a smile.

He grimaced and took a sip of his beer.

"That bad?"

"Worse," he admitted grimly. "He asked me for money."

She gave him a concerned look. "That's what? Third time?"

"Fifth." Michael put his can down and shrugged broad shoulders. "It has become a habit."

"What's the story this time?"

"His sick mother."

"I thought you said his mother is married and living in Palm Beach."

"And well off, enough to care for her medical bills." He sighed softly. "I certainly know how to pick them."

"That's why we are such good friends." Ryleigh joked. "What did you tell him?"

"To go to hell, and I never want to see him again."

"It's a curse being a trust fund baby." She grinned at the look he sent her way.

"You have no idea," he said feelingly. Michael was from a very prestigious family and had been expected to follow in the family's footsteps by joining the pharmaceutical company, but they had disappointed them by not only being gay but also becoming a public servant.

They tolerated and loved him in their own way, but he was the black sheep of the family, and he was aware of it. He had also accepted that they would never accept his lifestyle, which is part of the reason he kept his relationships private. He also clung to his friendship with Ryleigh because she was always there for him and offered no judgment.

"I know you said we are not supposed to venture into the subject of that asshole, but I think you should get back out there."

"You sound like Rosalyn." She told him dryly. "She ordered me to go to a bar and pick up a stranger and bang his life out."

Michael laughed at that, eyes twinkling. "I would not exactly offer that advice, considering the danger, but I think the perfect revenge is to get involved with someone. Show that bastard that he has not won."

She played with the condensation on her can, expression thoughtful.

"Unless you have already put something in motion?"

"Not exactly." Lifting her head, she stared at him and wondered if she should disclose her thoughts. Michael was highly discreet, and she knew that she could tell him anything without fear of hearing it back. "I was made an offer."

His eyes crinkled with interest. "Oh?"

"Not the one you are thinking of. Something else, something highly unusual."

"Now I am intrigued." Leaning forward, he stared at her. "What is it?"

"To be a surrogate." She smiled at the stunned look on his handsome face.

"Come again?"

She told him the details briefly and watched as he started in surprise at the name of the family.

"Are you going to do it?"

Ryleigh shrugged restlessly. "I think that it's something I would love to do."

"Darling, the child would not be yours, and I cannot begin to highlight the risks involved."

"I have thought about that aspect as well, and I think it's what I need to take my mind off what I have been through."