2. Owen

Chapter two

Owen

I stared out the huge plate glass window as the rain descended over the Puget Sound. I loved Seattle. Well, I mostly loved it. I was getting more than a little tired of the rain and lack of sunshine, but the town was always happening. It always had a little magic in the air.

My bosses, the firm's two partners, had just left for the day, and I was stuck here doing a glorified paralegal's work. Not that I minded. I had worked for my mom's firm back in Illinois before moving out here, and I had been her legal assistant. Of course, she also made me part janitor, part investigator, and, well, anything that needed doing.

Foolish of me. I had thought when I got my law degree and passed all the stupid exams, I'd be doing lawyer work. At least the two older partners here weren't insane about logging every damned second to bill clients. Of course, that's why I decided to apply to small firms. I couldn't see myself chasing every penny .

I sighed, let out a heavy, labored breath, and returned to the piles of paperwork. I didn't hear the door open and almost missed Cary's breathless call. "You won't believe this," he said, pulling me out of the chair.

"Believe what? Cary, what's going on?" I asked.

"Do you remember that old man that came in with the weird will? The one that gave all his money and possessions to ‘the one who bears the ring'?" he asked, changing his voice to sound like someone from The Lord of the Rings or something.

I laughed. "No, and that sounds ridiculous. Cary, I have like fifty hours' worth of work to do here. Go screw with Mrs. Patterson," I said, referring to our one very beleaguered and elderly legal assistant.

"You're the only attorney in, so you've got to see him. Come on, he's hot, too, really hot!" Cary said, pulling me down the hallway.

I just shook my head and accepted that I wouldn't get anything done until Cary got his way. As the front desk clerk, he was usually solid as a rock, but when he lost his mind, usually over some hot guy, he lost it entirely.

I stepped into the lobby and froze. Six three, maybe six four? I couldn't quite tell with his long coat, but he was tall, just like I liked my men.

Dark, almost coal-black hair and bright blue eyes—such a weird contrast against his pale skin. I'd swear he was almost some kind of vampire with features like that. "Hi, I'm…I'm Damian Richards. I-I was given this card and told to show you my ring?"

He blushed, and honestly, that just made him that much more attractive, making his previous unapproachable appearance seem a bit more, well, approachable.

"I-I, um, I don't know what that means," I said, and Cary, who'd disappeared, came back and shoved a file in my hands, then pushed me toward the conference room, all while making eyes at the handsome stranger.

"O-okay," I stuttered. "Um, come in, and I'll review the file."

The man seemed as confused as me, which helped, I guess. I walked into the conference room and grabbed him a bottle of water, not thinking to ask if he wanted one. I needed something, so I grabbed two as I figured we could both use one.

I took a long swig before sitting next to him. "I apologize. I'm not up on your case, so give me a minute to read the file," I said, wishing he'd shown up thirty minutes earlier so he could have met with one of the partners who at least might have understood what was happening.

I scanned the file, then, perplexed, scanned it again. The list of assets was significant. A home in the affluent Queen Anne neighborhood that even I, new to Seattle, knew was worth a lot. There was also well over six million dollars, among other things, some of which sounded like they had come from a fairy tale .

But that wasn't the perplexing part. What I didn't understand was the ring. "He who wears the ring—" The file showed several pictures of it, all from different angles. "—shall inherit all my assets."

"You, um, have the ring?" I asked.

He placed his hand on the table, the ring almost glowing. It was beautiful, probably worth thousands, if not tens of thousands, of dollars. "Um, can I take a closer look?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No, I-I can't get it off."

"Oh, well, okay, let me see your hand, then," I said, more because I didn't know what the fuck else to do. He held his hand out, and I stared at it briefly. His hand was bigger than mine, and I didn't have little hands.

He was a large but well-built man, and his hands were the same. "Okay," I said, reaching out and taking his fingers.

I was momentarily blinded, like someone had turned the lights out. By the time the light returned, the guy was holding my hand, his eyes the size of saucers. "You," he said. "I-I saw you."

"You did? Where?" I asked, confused and still lightheaded from whatever episode I'd just had.

"This…this is too weird. I-I'm going to go."

I stood as he did, and just as he was about to leave, the ring began to glow for real, and it wasn't my imagination. "Take what I've left you," a disembodied voice said, and I immediately felt clammy, like when I had a virus and stood up too fast .

I sat back down, my stomach doing flip-flops, and when I looked up, the guy had done the same. "What's going on?" I asked.

The guy shook his head. "I'm… I don't know. Something weird."

I nodded. "You can say that again. Did your ring just talk?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Apparently. I don't know, I literally just got the thing."

"Maybe you should take it back."

"I get the feeling," he said, staring down at the ring in front of him, "it's not going to be that easy."