Devil's Lawyer

Masked abuse.

I invite her to have lunch with me today. It was an elegant place with a particular characteristic: there were belly dancers, moving all over the place while you eat your food. I decide to order wine, so she could relax, put aside her usual seriousness, and become a more spontaneous and happy person. My almost-boyfriend and I want Ita to join us on a trip that we will have. We are excited by the idea of cracking that shell that covers her, to see what is underneath: I can sense that she hides fire inside her, I hope I'm not wrong. A trip is the perfect opportunity to reveal the true personality of my assistant because being in a distant place, with unknown people, makes you feel that you can do anything, without fear of building a bad reputation because the people who may witness your bad behavior or madness, will never see you again and they won't even know your name. 

I will try to manipulate her into agreeing to travel with us. Also with the intention to take her stress away, I tell her that we don’t have to go back to the office because “I have arranged everything for someone to take care of my work”.  Surprisingly she is glad and says that "lately she has been feeling a bit overloaded". So I take this opportunity to reply that I feel the same way because working in the cases of the Latin woman and the blonde actress has been a great challenge for me: they are complicated in legal terms and the constant attention they attract from the press, increases pressure and stress. She asks me why I consider these cases so complex. 

 – I think you already know the answer to that question – I tell her –. On one hand, we have a woman who killed a little girl, and even though it was an accident, I know the jury is going to be tough. On the other hand, the blonde actress's case has been just drama: her the father forces me to hide information, the judge dies, they have not yet informed us when the trial has been rescheduled, I do not know what defense I am going to present and I feel very sad about the history of that woman, but I cannot do anything, because his father is powerful and dangerous.

After listening to me, she remains silent for a few seconds, but I don't say anything because I want the tension and discomfort caused by the silence to grow between us. I can see that my words have stressed her and I want to save time for that feeling to sink into her, I do not want to save her from her discomfort by telling her not to worry: I need her to worry, I want her to be emotionally affected so when I ask for help, she can’t refuse to save me. 

After a while, she breathes out and tells me that “she will fight by my side to do what is right ”. This phrase proves that my plan is working, I'm just going to add a little more drama to the equation. Before continuing my performance, I pour more wine into her glass. Alcohol does not lead us to do things we didn’t want to do, on the contrary, it encourages us to do all the things we always wanted to do but didn’t have the courage to. So I want to give her the courage to accept my proposal. 

 – I also want to do what is right – I murmur with a trembling voice –. I look at the blonde actress in the eyes and feel her pain, I want to hug her and cry with her. But I cannot, I must remain distant, follow the plan that a person has outlined for both of us. The opposite would imply challenging an immeasurable power. These people are above the law: they are the ones who decide if the world keeps turning around and they are criminals and murderers. 

The truth is that I am not touched by the tragic personal lives of my clients. I have a rule in my work: do not get sentimentally involved with my clients because I am not a social worker, nor an NGO employee, neither am I a government agent in charge of humanitarian aid; I am a lawyer and our role is to argue, collect evidence, build a story, and defend it. I have never been interested in finding out if the stories I built based on what my clients tell me are real, I could never be totally about that because we all lie. But, it is also true that lately, the work in the firm has been a huge burden, because I have been forced to resort to unorthodox techniques in order to ensure that my clients are found not guilty and sometimes I'm worried that someone will find out what I've been doing. Thinking about this possibility stresses me. It would be dreadful to go from being a defense attorney to being the person charged by a crime. 

The food arrived as I spoke. It was a bad time for the waiter to come because my dramatic staging was interrupted. When he is gone, she breaks the silence to ask me "if the office is affecting my well-being". That is the question I have been waiting for. I answer that  I deal with a lot of issues right now, and I speak of stress, uncertainty, insomnia, I mention I skip meals all the time, the backache that keeps me awake at night and the migraine that clouds my vision. As I list all the pains, I realize that I am not lying: in fact if I am wrecked or, at least, my body is. If only I was certain that I wouldn't go to prison, I know that my body could be less tense, but that certainty is impossible: nothing in life is granted, so I have to learn to live in between the madness. 

We eat our meals as I constantly pour wine into our glasses. She hadn't noticed, but she drank a whole bottle by herself. I haven’t said anything, because I am giving her time to think about the words I have said and feel sorry for me. I decide to tell her that my almost-boyfriend advised me to take vacations and that I think it would be appropriate, especially since the anniversary of my grandparents' death is close and that date is not easy for me. She asks me where I would like to go. Even though I am sure I will take a trip, I realize that I don't know where to go. Actually, I have been to all the countries of Europe that are worth knowing, I also visited the sss in Brazil and did a little tour through the close by countries, so I can't think of any unknown and interesting destinations. 

 – It's not worth thinking about possible destinations because I used to travel with my best friend and we don’t talk anymore – I tell her with my eyes darted on the floor –. 

She just says she is sorry about my best friend. I order another bottle of wine and an Arabic dessert called "baklava". At some point, I perceive we're both a little dizzy so I decide to risk and make my proposal.

– We have like ten days before we have to attend any trial, why don’t you travel with me? I need someone happy and calm like you by my side  – I tell her with a huge smile on my face and the idea actually makes me excited –. 

She refuses, arguing she doesn’t have money for a trip and that we do not know each other well, therefore, my presence would be intimidating and uncomfortable on a trip. I can’t believe she just told me that, at first that makes me feel offended, but then I understand that she is a prude and is understandable that I intimidate her. So I beg for her company because “I am losing myself and I feel terribly alone”. But, suddenly being in an Arab restaurant implants an idea in my head: she is a recently converted Muslim, so she won’t be able to reject the possibility of visiting a country where Islam is the prevailing religion. Before she can say anything, I speak again. 

– A few days ago I saw some plane tickets to Dubai that were on sale –  I say, as I pour more wine in her glass, maybe that will encourage her to accept my offer –. And I ended up doing a little research about the country. It is totally awesome how different everything is there.  They are all very devoted, the family ideal is highly respected, the women are demure and the men are hard workers. I also saw through the internet a mosque where they have to take off your shoes to enter.

As I spoke about Dubai, her face lights up with happiness, so I ask her once more to come with me on a trip. I also promise to her that we will be sleeping in different rooms, to preserve our privacy. And this time, she finally accepts my proposal. I feel fulfilled because you have reached my goal. We get out of the restaurant and I drive her home but I go back to the office. If the two owners of the firm are going to be absent, someone else must stay in charge, so I choose a person to run the place and quickly give him instructions that he will have to follow while we are on vacation. 

When I return to my place, I call him. We discuss a little about the trip and we decide we will be leaving within two days. We also talk about Ita. We agree that she is so mysterious, maybe that is why we both are thrilled with her. I wish I could read through her face, decipher what he hides behind her silence and formality. But she confuses me because sometimes she is kind, loving and supportive; but some other times she is like the arctic sea: cold, dark and lonely. Before going to bed. I text Ita: “we are leaving on Wednesday, do not forget to pack discreet clothes for the mosque”.  I close my eyes and stay for a few moments imagining the things I want to do on the trip until I lose myself in the darkness of the dream. 

I wake up early. I proceed to book a private flight for three people. Being able to travel in solitary is a great relief for me because, whenever I go on a commercial flight, I feel that anyone who is there could be a mercenary waiting to kill me. Whenever I say things like this out loud, people laugh, but the truth is that lawyers are killed every day all around the world, either because they challenge the wrong criminal or because they are bad people and one day someone decides to take revenge. It scares me to think that a day will come when I have to pay back. 

I also make a reservation at the Burj Al Arab, a hotel located on an artificial island, built in the shape of a sail and cladded in blue and white tones, mixing perfectly with the sea and the sky. I need to keep the promise I made to Ita because otherwise she will be angry and is going to get isolated from us, from the beginning. Finally, I rent a car: it is a white Rolls Royce because some years ago I saw one of these on Miami Beach, and ever since then I have been wanting to drive that car. It has a vintage style that I adore. When everything is ready, I inform Ita and my almost-boyfriend of all the details of the trip I have organized. 

We take a cab to Ita’s house. She is confused to see him there. “I thought you didn’t have anyone to accompany you on the trip”, she says with an angry face. I put my hand on her cheek and I explain to her that when I said that, I meant that I had no female company. And I also add that if she is uncomfortable with him joining us, she can cancel the trip, but she tells me that it is "too late for that". So we all get into the cab and head to the airport. 

The eighteen hours of flight between the United States and the Arab Emirates evaporated quickly. At first, I put a blanket over my legs, laid and looked at the clouds, without thinking about anything, without interpreting anything, just lost in its fluffy white color; meanwhile, they talked and he flirted with her. Later I allowed myself to forget about myself, who I was, and the life I had, to see historical films and believe for a brief moment that I was an 18th-century Duchess. Then the hours were condensed between music, vodka, music, snacks, music, dance … After some hours moving our bodies to the beat of the music, I fell asleep over his chest, thinking that would be a good place for my life to end, if it had to. 

Sooner than I thought, we were in the hotel room. This is known as "the only seven-star hotel in the world" and it is certainly very accurate to refer to this hotel that way. Even though I have seen a lot of luxury places in my life, this room is over the top. It is around two hundred meters, so it looks more like an apartment. The place is very colorful, the space is flooded with colors like mustard, white, gold, gray, violet, and wine red. The floor has an extraordinary brightness, and this makes me imagine multiple maids constantly carving it. There is also shine all over, the details of the decoration and lighting in the place makes you feel that bright and light follows you around. It is certainly the fit for a king and it makes sense because  Dubai is full of Sheikhs: oil lords and business titans.

I found something that catches my attention: a comfy Arabic-style lounge. The entrance is delimited by two columns that have golden details. It has red carpets, with mustard and black arabesques on them, and the curtains are the same colors. There are a couple of sofas glued to the floor with mustard-purple small flower designs all over. One particular detail makes me fall in love with the place: multiple cushions with different shapes that are scattered everywhere. It makes me want to jump on them and spend an infinite time there. 

The whole place has a neoclassical decoration, as if the place were reminiscent of Louis XIV's aesthetics. But this style is more strongly present in the main room: the furniture is supported on turned and carved wooden legs and covered with soft silk. And the bed has a beautiful canopy. All the tiles on the floor are clothed with a thick carpet with floral designs. There were curtains arranged where there was no window that needed them: some red veil curtains, partially covered by a pair of mustard-colored veils, fastened in the middle, forming a decorative arch. The ceiling had reliefs in plaster, with golden details: too much effort for a place that is not seen very often. 

It is around noon and it seems that everything moves at medium speed. But that is not really happening, it is my head that has sunk into the mist, the excess of champagne and the lack of sleep of last night makes me slow. I feel like lying on the multiple cushions, but I make an effort to get dressed and go to lunch. "A coffee can wake me up", I think to cheer myself up. Something I have always loved about the Arab world is their food: it is a fusion of the entire Mediterranean. There are art and complexity in every corner. We have a lunch rich in spices, sauces, and strong aromas. Finally I order what they call "Turkish sand coffee", and I am amazed to discover that this name is due to the fact that it is prepared on hot sand.

Our first destination is the Shaikh Zayed Mosque. Men and women should go in discreet clothes, their heads covered and without shoes. The Qur'an says that "hygiene is part of the faith", which is why Muslims consider that the soles of their shoes represent the dirt of the external world, so they walk barefoot into the mosques. I decided to wear an all-white, loose, outfit and cover my head with a hiyab. 

When I reach the entrance of the place, just where the marble floor begins, I bend down to take off my shoes and leave them on a shelf. As soon as I stand up again, I turn to the right and get a beautiful panoramic of the place. The view is so overwhelming that everything beyond the geometric figures of the sacred place is blurred; the very sensations of my body are canceled and all my energy and thoughts are directed towards the palace that stands in front of me; the hustle and bustle of people gradually merge into a single noise, a hum that soon fades; the sun becomes a thin layer of lacquer, which does not burn, it only beautifies the place; the only thing left is just me, floating in front of majestic architecture. I am not even able to express in thoughts or words the astonishment that causes me that place, I simply remain paralyzed by a feeling of fullness, peace, and love. Perhaps the place if it is covered by a sacred breath; or maybe the aesthetic sensitivity that I have always had, was overloaded by seeing so much beauty. I don't know what happened, but the feeling that filled my body was beautiful, I had never felt this way. 

The place has an immeasurable luxury. The first view I had was of excessive whiteness, which makes me think that the place is truly pure and far from the misfortune of the world. However, as I get closer, I notice that the columns that support the place have delicate flowers painted in a dark green and that there are multiple golden details all over. The majesty of the place derives from its several round and white domes, all located at different heights and of different sizes. Inside, everything is white, beige and gold. There are columns, that on each side that have a light vertically projecting, white arches, and walls carved with beige flowers and bright sparkles. There are also golden chandeliers at various points. And the most beautiful detail is the marble floor, which has gigantic flowers drawn on it.

Today is a day of contrasts, because after the spiritual experience in the mosque; We are preparing for a more mundane experience: we are going to the largest shopping center in the world, also known as the Dubai Mall. I am driving the rented Rolls Royce and meanwhile, they are in the back. “You are a rare beauty”, he says in the back seat, addressing my assistant. So I decided to jump in with a little joke, and I say that maybe “I can be the first wife and she can be the second”.  But we are only making her tense with our comments, so we quit and remain silent until we arrive. 

 – You are not gonna be able to flirt with her, while I am near, she will get twice nervous – I whisper to him, while entering the mall – . I better disappear now and you can buy her gifts and be as sweet as you want –.  

He agrees with my proposal. I announce to both of them that I would like to explore the place on my own, because “I am so stressful when I shop” and I vanish. I am wondering, what can I get here that I cannot get in the United States? I would like to ask that question to someone. I spot a restaurant called “Al Halabi”. For sure, the food in that place is something North America can’t offer me, so I decide we will have dinner there later.  

Despite the mall being in the Arab world, it seems that the western influence has no limits because I found the stores I use to shop in: Chanel, Rolex, Cartier, and there is even a large space reserved for Lafayette Galleries. I frantically go in and out of stores, hoping to find something different in them, but it's all the same as back home. 

What is unique in this place is its people, its culture and its clothing. I have seen Muslims and Hindus, but not so many together. They arouse my admiration and respect. The Muslims wear robes to dress: men's robes are white and women's robes are black, some of them only expose their eyes. But there are Muslim men whose clothes are like the ones we wear at wester, and Muslim women whose clothes are colorful, but discreet, long-sleeved and they wear hiyabs. The Hindus wear shiny and colorful dresses; and their women wear flashy makeup and lots of jewelry. I soon realize that I have been walking for several minutes, only to admire and get to know –even if only externally– the people I find exotic, for being from a culture so different from mine.. 

As I get lost in the mall, I see unusual things for a shopping center: an aquarium, where you can swim with sharks; a relatively small amusement park; prayer rooms, because people in Islam must pray several times a day; and I find a street market, they call it “the souk”. It reminds me of the markets that I met in Greece, but of course, this one is cleaner and more luxurious; besides, there are no sellers shouting and inviting you to walk into their store. I want to spend a lot of time here. I start buying anything I like: jewelry, silk scarves with arabesques, perfumes, aromatic oils and such. When I check my cell phone, there are a lot of lost calls from him. I call back to tell him to meet me at “Al Halabi”. 

As soon as you enter the restaurant, it is impossible not to notice that on one of its walls there is an artificial waterfall, I think it measures around one hundred meters. I never thought I would dine by a waterfall, especially since I hate nature. I take him to the restroom with me, where he tells me everything they did while I disappeared. I feel fulfilled while listening to it: we have Ita in the palm of our hand. Apparently she is falling in love with him or maybe she always secretly had a crush on him. They visited a library and discovered they have similar familiar tastes in literature and they even kissed in a coffee. This is starting to look like a romance novel. It will be exciting to watch this romance story transform into an action script.

– He told me what happened between you guys – I say, when we get back to the table –. You don’t need to worry, because we are not an exclusive couple, we are not even a real couple.

 – I felt so guilty, I still do  – she says looking at me –. 

 – Please, don’t. I beg you. You are not being unfaithful, because that requires hiding things but here no one is hiding the facts – I say, while smiling at her –. 

When I get to our hotel room, I tell him I'll be taking a long relaxing bath, so they can have some privacy to play Romeo and Juliet. I stay in the middle of bubbles and steam, half asleep, half awake. I wonder if bringing Ita on the trip was a good idea, after all, it seems like she's stealing all the fun from me. I will have to do something to join the party. Tomorrow we will go to the desert. It just occurred to me that I can get a surprise item for more fun.

I get out of the bathroom and get into comfy clothes: I will have a late-night adventure. But before, I stand by Ita’s room and try to find out what is going on in there. I hear him tell the girl that he deserves compensation for all the gifts he gave her. That is a classic technique of men. It would be amazing he could get to fourth base with her, get the deed done once and for all. However, I am about to make sure that tomorrow we go all the way down. 

I am heading to the red-light district of Dubai. Even the most religious and extremist country has a district where illegality proliferates. According to the information I collected before the trip, I should go to Naif Road, where I will find locals and people of dubious reputation. I take a clasp-knife with me, in case someone wants to be sexually inappropriate or try to kidnap me. I take a taxi and the man who drives me asks if I know the area. I lie and say that I do. Anyways, he tells me that "I have to take extra care if I am not familiarized with the area". I walk a couple of blocks until I spot a girl. 

 – Girl ... I'm looking to buy happiness – I say with a friendly tone–.

 – Many people here want the same thing, but what kind of happiness are you looking for? – says the girl with a mischief look in her eyes –. 

Smiling, I reply with a monosyllable: “ecstasy”. She asks me to follow her and advises me to be alert. I thought she might take me to a basement or to a dirty brothel, filled with bad-looking thugs and ugly clients; but it was not like that. We arrived at a nightclub, where a well-dressed guy gave me what I was looking for and I gave him dollars in exchange. 

In less than I expected, I was back at the hotel. I snoop again. Silently, I open the door slightly, to see what the lovebirds are up to: I see him take off his shirt, his muscular body covering my assistant's fragil body. The adrenaline starts running through my body. He takes off her clothes really quickly, but when he is about to get rid of her underwear she says that “she doesn't feel good about this”. 

 – I thought you were into me, or did you use me to get expensive things? – he says –. 

She replies that she likes him and wants him, but that she must stay chaste. But he doesn't listen to the last part, as soon as she says she wants it, he takes her. He puts his hand over her mouth, and I hear a muffled scream. Soon he withdraws his hand and she stops fighting, to enjoy the moment. I close the door and go to bed: I won't have my own fun tonight. 

Today the day starts very early, the high temperature is still not felt and the dry wind is not yet bothersome. We drive a long time, until the buildings start to get small until they disappear and the only thing we see are deserted beaches. Soon, the only landscape is sand with orange reflections. I appreciate the existence of a GPS, because otherwise, I could never reach the meeting point. Finally, I see a couple of big men standing in front of a red mat that leads to a rustic brick building, which is like an oasis, amidst the endless grains of sand in the desert. We have reached a camp in the middle of the desert. At first, everything seems like a children's party: There are sweets arranged on various tables, nearby you can find camels for people to ride and a tent where henna tattoos are made. At first, I focus on getting the best angles and properly capturing light in photographs; but that is usually exhausting, so I sit on a sofa and soon I am bored. I set my gaze on them. She seems elusive and has a worried or stressed face. As I watch them, I notice that she is heading towards the bathroom, so I follow her to find out what is tormenting her.

 – You can tell mama bear, what is going on – I say with a big smile –. 

 – I have broken my vows of chastity, I am betraying my faith. It all happened last night. I should have resisted, opposed, fought with all my might, but a part of me wanted it and everything happened very quickly. He did not stop to think anything. And I did not want him to bother and get away from me – She says –. 

 – But, he attracts you, I know it, he knows it and you know it. God hates those who kill, those who torture and those who steal. And he is right to hate them because they hurt other people, but tell me who do you hurt? you will hurt yourself, if you turn away from him, sadness and madness will eat your heart out. Let’s have a drink, so we can have a better chat – I say–.

When we get out, I notice that the light is gradually fading from the sky. At the same time, a cold air current whips the desert camp, with more strength each time. I look around and notice that there are some new people. Most of the men and women there have gypsy eyes and a charming halo of mystery. I spot some sofas in a corner, with a table in the center, on this they have put several hookahs and people take turns to smoke. I sit down and smoke too. The first time you breathe in the pipe, the taste in your mouth feels stronger, a strong contrast is made: the dirty smoke, spilling down your clean throat. I close my eyes, I retain the smoke in my chest, the warm air hits my face, the slings of gypsy music reach me. I let the smoke out and take a deep breath of the night air, trying to figure out what that place smells like and I feel hints of cigarette, rum, perfume and a penetrating aroma of honey, emanating from the dessert table. But there is a more powerful aroma that stands out: the place smells of lust. I see desiring eyes, restless bodies, sexy clothes and bodies covered with sweat. I will get cocktails, to join the uninhibited crowd.

I get lost in the crowd, looking for him to give him a small gift. And his eyes light up when he sees me, he holds me tight by the waist, drawing me close to him and whispers in my ear that Ita is just a game because his heart belongs to me and his body longs for mine.

 – Lawyers only trust evidence: prove you love me and maybe I will be your girlfriend, just maybe – I say, while I wink at him –. Now, close your eyes and open your mouth. 

 – What is this pill? – he asks me with his eyes wide open –. 

 –Ecstasy, my dear. And I have some more: one for me and other for your new mistress – I answer –. 

I get drinks for all of us. I choose one of the glasses, dissolve the pill there, and give it to Ita. I bring her a new drink every ten minutes, but when she is taking the third cocktail I notice that the ecstasy is doing its work on the three of us. I get excited because this pill is going to allow me to discover her body, to join their fun, to finally get to know the way my little assistant tastes. Without wasting a second, I take them to our red tent, so we can have privacy. If she doesn’t remember tomorrow, it doesn't matter; if I won't remember tomorrow, it doesn’t matter. What matters is the madness and cadence of the moment. Besides, if she can't remember, she can't suspect that I put something in her drink.

This thing makes you feel like you are in the peek of an everlasting o****m; as if you were falling in love, but ten times stronger; like you are a Christmas tree that lights up; as if your brain had begun to work at its maximum capacity; like if out of the sudden, the smells are more penetrating, the lights stronger and the caresses silkier.

Wild with madness, we began to touch and caress each other. I run my hands over his cheeks, she puts her hands on my arms and sometimes squeezes them, he grabs one of my legs with both hands and runs it. And so we stayed like that for a while, exploring our bodies only with our hands, memorizing the different shapes and enjoying the curves. Suddenly a hand –I don’t know whose hand– takes off my dress, so I take off  Itas clothes, then the two of us together stripped the man in the room. We continue caressing each other, I don’t try anything else: the chemicals in my head make me wish that the caresses never end, but also make me feel in love with the other two people in the tent, so much that I can't bear it in my chest.

Before I can figure it out or react, something lies me down on a mat. I feel four hands on my body, exploring it. Then two tongues on my skin. After that, two hands holding my hips: I see him, in front of me and about to take me. But I don’t want to exclude her, so I try to reach her with my hand, but he does it first, draws her to him so that he can lay his head on her chest. We continued this for several hours, driven by the euphoria of the pills and the alcohol. Tasting each other to exhaustion, and, of course, caressing us a lot.

I wake up because of the heat, with my head pounding and my mount dry. I helped her to get dressed because the intoxication wouldn't let her move or think properly. Then I ask one of the employees of the place to drive us back because I was sure that I was not able to turn the car on. When we arrived, we laid the girl on the bed and ordered anything that might help us with the hangover. 

Out of the blue, she wakes up. I start talking to her. She seems to remember we were at a desert camp, having cocktails but after that, she doesn’t know what happened. But, when she sees him, she can't take her eyes off him and she turns to stone. When I call her name, she covers her eyes with her hand. 

 – I have a shadowy memory of the three of us, kissing and touching, naked – she says and fear flashes through her face –. Please tell me it was just a dream. 

 – It was not a dream, you drank some cocktails and went wild. You and I were in private and you asked me to bring Sharon – he says with a satisfied tone –. 

 – Oh my, God…  I am w***e… I am a filthy b***h – she says –. 

– Darling, don’t worry – I say to her–. Guilt is something that has been invented to control our lives, to make us feel bad for doing what we want, but this is what you wanted and it is okay.

I try to place my hand over her shoulder, but she goes nuts. She starts screaming so hard that I think she's going to hurt her throat. I'm alarmed, what if security shows up to check what is going on and she says we r***d her? He tries to touch her, but she starts hitting and insulting him and only stops doing it, to start breaking all the decorations of the place. 

 – She is going to get us in trouble, give her two of my relaxing pills and lock her in the bathroom – I whisper at him–. 

Finally, she calms down: those pills she took leave her floating above reality because they cancel the anxiety. Although he locks her in the bathroom, just in case she wants to wreck the whole place again. None of the other girls who had temporarily joined our relationship had reacted this way. Of course, we had never chosen a religious and demure girl, we usually choose girls who want adventure, money, and fame, and that's what we give them, for a couple of days, at least. 

– Maybe you went too far… the ecstasy was too much for her – he says, without looking at me –. 

 – Oh, c’mon, she would never have gone crazy with us without a little help, she is such a prude  – I answer –. 

I was just speaking, when I heard a knock on the door. As soon as I turn the doorknob, someone pushes the door and about six huge men dressed in suits get inside the place, grab me by the shoulders and start dragging me. I can move and all I can do is scream, but I don't even cry for “help”, I just yell "ah" as Janet Leigh does right before someone kills her in the shower. When he hears my screams, he comes out of the room to find a rare scene that could belong to a cheesy Hollywood action movie. Although I never saw myself playing the role of the damsel in distress, here I am. They also take him and then they tie us to some chairs. I don't need to spend time thinking why these armed men are here, I already know. And if my suspicion is adequate, no matter how much I scream, no one will come to save us because all of the hotel staff are aware that there are six intruders in my room.

I think it is time to accept that this is the end. At least I managed to have my own lawyer's firm. I think that all my things will be given to charity and I feel nostalgic. Two of the men take up their weapons, display them as if to emphasize their power. But then another one of them lights a cigarette and starts smoking with his eyes on me. He tells me that I have beautiful skin and he thinks it is a pity he has to ruin it. “Damn it”, I think and I prepare myself mentally, I promise I will be strong and won’t I beg for mercy: I will not give them the pleasure of seeing me humiliated. Without hesitation, he puts the cigarette against my body, and a sound like a "tsh" is heard, produced by the burning skin. 

 – Why do you do this? … you bastards! – he yells at them with anger –. 

They just laugh when they hear him screaming, but I don't waste my time trying to ask what I already know. These good boys are here because they want to take revenge on me and they will surely kill us both. Then another guy comes near me and punches me in the face, twice, and then they stop to see how I react, but I simply close my eyes and feel a hot liquid come out of my nose: blood. Then they go back to the cigarette thing and the place it over my neckline, then my neck and finally on my check; then they stop again to seek any reaction of mine, but I do nothing. 

 – Apparently, this girl is strong, so let's play rough –says a guy that had remained distant–.

He walks towards me, smiling broadly, unties me and grabs me by the arm. He takes me to the bathroom –he doesn't choose the bathroom that Ita is in, so she may be the only survivor today–, and when he realizes there is water in the bathtub, he says that "it seems like someone prepared the bathtub for us". This time he grabs my hair and forces my head into the water. With my eyes closed and submerged under a cold liquid filled with soap, I think the worst is not dying but drowning. I have been told that drowning is like gradually losing the strength of your muscles, losing the notion of the world, until finally, everything vanishes. But I feel my lungs burn. The guy takes me out of the water, lets me breathe for a few seconds and plunges back into it. Definitely, the worst is not dying, but this endless cycle of pain: my lungs collapsing with pain, burning eyes, and despair. Just when I was ready for the end, someone knocks on the door and tells the thug that it has been enough. They take me back into the living. 

 – Our boss wants to give you a warning because he is a man of God and avoids staining his hands with blood –says one of the thugs–. We know you want to get your client out of jail, by putting our boss behind bars. We also know that you kill, torture, and bribe public defenders and judges to secure your victories in court. To be more specific, we know that you bribed many people to incriminate our boss, who has not committed any crime. So now you are going to make sure that our boss is found not guilty; otherwise, your cute boyfriend is going to have to organize your funeral soon. 

When the guy finishes speaking, he lifts my chin with his pistol and asks me if I understood. I nod with my head. They untie me and just as quickly as they entered the room, they disappeared. As soon as I untie my lover he pushes me against the wall and puts his hands around my neck. He is squeezing me for real. Maybe today death is infatuated with me. I try to speak, to beg him to please release me, but I can't speak. I think he has realized that he is actually killing me because he abruptly releases me and retreats back: scared of himself. Then he goes to the bathroom and brings my assistant, who is still drowsy. 

 – Ita deserves to know what kind of person is her boss and her new best friend – he says, with angry eyes –. 

 – What are you talking about? – Ita says –. Why is she wet and has a wound on her face?

– While you were sedated in the bathroom, some guys came, threatened us, tortured Sharon ...It was revenge because her secret hobby is bribing and killing people – he says, again –. I still can't understand who were the guys who came in here and threatened us. Sharon, would you be so kind as to explain?

 – Well ... A businessman who lives in the United Arab Emirates and has business in the United States hired me to defend him because he and his business partner are being charged by an economic crime due to their trades in North America – I explain –. So the client and I decided to blame it all on his partner. To make sure he was found “not guilty”, we bribed several people… I guess the partner of my client found out that I was in the UAE and came to do the warning. 

 – I loathe you– he says –. You disgust me. Killing someone is very different from our little pranks and s*x games. Is it true that you had people killed? Of course, it is true, I should have watched you closely, I always knew you were a b***h. 

After saying that, he leaves the room. Ita stays there, staring at me, frozen. I don’t know if she is looking at me with pity or fear. However, the important thing now is to make sure these two don't turn me over to the police, that would be the end of my career and my life. I think I can manipulate Ita, to get her silence. I start to cry, put my hands over my eyes, and kneel on the floor. 

 – I am a horrible human being – I mumble –. Greed and the desire to be a famous lawyer led me to be a horrible human being. I regret it, I regret it a lot. Today, when I almost died, I was able to understand what I had done to those other people. 

 – Don't say that, nobody deserves to die, please get up – she says in a soft voice –. 

 – I also regret what I did to you – I cry, hysterically –. I became your friend and brought evil and lust into your life, instead of protecting you. And today I locked you in the bathroom. I'm so sorry, I can't even look you in the eye.

– Don't blame yourself, all of this is also my fault: I should have had a stronger character and stayed true to my convictions, but I know that I can find God's forgiveness. And so can you do it – she says –.

But I cut the dialogue, by telling her that death is the only thing I can reach.  I stand up from the floor and head to a window, threatening to jump. But she runs to me in a hurry and pulls me back, then she takes me into her arms. We remain there in silence, several minutes. 

 – I want to give myself up, if I give myself away to the people who help me in committing crimes, I can get a few years in prison  – I say, as I look at her face –.

He returns to the room. He apologizes to me.  Ita tells him that I am going to surrender to justice and he smiles. I tell him I have one condition, for doing that. 

 – In fifteen days is the anniversary of my lawyer's firm, let me celebrate it for the last time – I speak quietly –. After that, you will be the only owner of the firm because if I stay as the owner I will affect its public image. Also, I didn't actually kill someone, the thug I hired to torture the judge in Crystal's case exceeded in violence and he killed him.

He agrees, of course. He is so gullible. But I can't go to prison. I am not ready to let go of the life I wanted ever since I was a teenager. I know I will not be able to convince him to be my partner in crime because, despite the fact that he engages in my lies, pranks and s****l games, he would not be able to actually commit a crime. He could not bear to consider himself an "outlaw" person. So, I have time until before the anniversary to obtain the silence of the two of them, though, honestly, I know that Ita is already under my control. He is the one that worries me.