His Secret Addiction

Chapter Twenty

Alex's POV

Maya's arraignment was scheduled for Tuesday morning.

Chen called Monday night to tell us we didn't have to attend, but we could if we wanted to. She'd be entering a plea. Formal charges would be read. It would take maybe twenty minutes.

I told her we'd be there.

Damien didn't ask why. He just cancelled his morning meetings and met me outside the courthouse at eight.

The building was gray and institutional and smelled like floor cleaner and anxiety. We sat in the back of the courtroom. Maya's lawyer was already there, a woman in her fifties who looked expensive and tired. A few reporters sat scattered in the gallery. Chen was near the front.

Maya was brought in at eight thirty.

She looked smaller than I remembered. Prison orange instead of the designer clothes she usually wore. Her hands were cuffed in front of her. She didn't look at the gallery. Just straight ahead as they positioned her in front of the judge.

The charges were read. Conspiracy to commit money laundering. Wire fraud. Racketeering. Two counts of murder. Conspiracy to commit murder. The list went on for three full minutes.

Her lawyer entered a plea of not guilty.

The judge set bail at five million dollars. Maya's face didn't change. Her lawyer requested house arrest pending trial. The prosecution argued flight risk. The judge took ten seconds to decide.

Bail denied.

Maya was led out the same way she came in. She still hadn't looked at us.

The whole thing took eighteen minutes.

Outside, Damien put his hand on my back briefly. Just contact, no words. We walked two blocks before either of us spoke.

"She didn't look at anyone," I said.

"No."

"I thought she'd look for me. To see if I came." I stopped walking. "I don't know what I wanted. To see remorse, maybe. Something."

"She's already in survival mode. Her lawyer probably told her not to make eye contact with anyone in the gallery." Damien stood beside me on the sidewalk while people moved around us. "It doesn't mean she doesn't feel it."

"Does it matter if she does?"

"I don't know."

We got coffee. Sat in a window seat at a place neither of us had been to before. The coffee was mediocre and the table wobbled but we stayed for an hour anyway.

"My mother's case was never solved," I said. "They ruled it natural causes. Cancer. No autopsy, no investigation. She was buried and everyone moved on." I turned the cup in my hands. "Maya confessed to it on a wire recording. Chen said the DA is reopening the case based on her statement."

"That's good."

"Is it? My mother's still dead. Reopening it doesn't change that." I looked at him. "I thought I'd feel different. Knowing who did it. Having answers. But I just feel tired."

"Answers don't fix things," Damien said. "They just let you stop looking for them."

"Is that better?"

"Sometimes."

We finished our coffee and went to work.

The office felt normal. Too normal, considering everything. People smiled in the elevator. Someone made small talk about the weather. My desk had the same files I'd left on Friday. Like the world hadn't shifted slightly off its axis.

Jordan stopped by my office around eleven.

"Saw you at the arraignment," he said from the doorway. "Didn't want to interrupt."

"You were there?"

"Chen asked me to testify about the complaint I filed. How Maya encouraged it, provided information I didn't ask for." He came in and sat down without invitation. "I didn't know she was building a case against you both. I thought I was just competing."

"You were competing."

"Yeah, but she made it personal. Fed me things about your relationship with Cross, implied favoritism, made me think I was getting screwed over." He looked uncomfortable. "I should have verified before filing. That's on me."

"You filed what you thought was legitimate."

"I filed what someone with an agenda wanted me to file." He met my eyes. "I'm not apologizing for competing. But I am apologizing for being a tool."

"Accepted."

He stood. "Campaign launch is still next month. I'm still going to try to beat you."

"I'd be disappointed if you didn't."

He left and I sat there wondering when my life had become something where Jordan Li apologizing was the least strange thing to happen in a week.

Sophie called me down to Legal at two.

She had papers spread across her conference table and an expression that meant she was about to say something I wouldn't like.

"Maya's lawyer reached out," she said. "They want to negotiate."

I sat down. "Negotiate what?"

"Testimony. Maya claims she has information about other executives at Ross Industries who were involved in the network. Names, transactions, recorded conversations." Sophie handed me a document. "She's offering it in exchange for reduced charges."

"She's lying."

"Probably. But the DA has to investigate. Which means interviews, depositions, possible grand jury testimonies." She looked at me directly. "They're going to ask about you specifically. Your relationship with her, what you knew, when you knew it. Chen vouched for you, but this is different. This is Maya's lawyer trying to create reasonable doubt by spreading suspicion."

"So what do I do?"

"Tell the truth. Cooperate fully. Don't lawyer up unless they specifically target you, because that looks defensive." She paused. "And prepare for this to drag on for months. Maybe a year."

I called Damien from Sophie's office.

"They're going to investigate other executives," I told him. "Maya's claiming there were more people involved."

"Are there?"

"I don't think so. But her lawyer is fishing for leverage."

He was quiet for a moment. "Do you need me to come down?"

"No. I just needed to tell someone who wouldn't immediately start calculating liability."

"I'm absolutely calculating liability."

"Yeah, but you're doing it because you care, not because it's your job."

"Both can be true."

I hung up feeling slightly better.

That night we ordered takeout and ate it on the couch while going through depositions Sophie had sent over. Not romantic. Not fun. Just necessary.

"This is our life now," I said, reading through a witness list. "Legal documents and corporate investigations."

"Could be worse."

"How?"

"We could be doing it alone."

He said it simply, matter-of-fact, while highlighting something on his own copy. Like it was obvious. Like it had always been obvious.

I looked at him. He glanced up.

"What?" he said.

"Nothing." I went back to reading. "You're right. That's all."