The Mafia's Lawyer

Life can be so f****d up, and the f****d-up s**t just keeps coming. First, I lost my court case, and now I’m currently witnessing my asshole ex’s torture by the most gorgeous and yet terrifying man I’ve ever seen. I’ve been standing here unnoticed for about 10 minutes as this maniac rips apart George, and yet I can’t seem to move my feet or feign not enjoying the show. Dangerous men have surrounded me since I was young, and my job is full of them. From drug dealers to murderers, they all swarm to my dad’s prestigious law firm in Manhattan, to which I am now a junior partner at the early age of twenty-six. Everyone thinks I got my promotion because I’m daddy’s little princess, and she gets anything daddy’s little princess wants. Oh, how wrong they are. My dad has hated me most of my life for not stopping my mum from killing herself with sleeping pills when I was six. Plus, I am the perfect likeness to her, reminding him of her and making him even angrier. I’m pretty sure I only got the job because he had two senior partners who thought I would be a good fit. Majority rules and all that. My dad never hit me, but I have been a fly on the wall since then. Ignored or swatted away. I mean, really. What the f**k was I supposed to do at six about my mother taking sleeping pills? I probably thought they were Tic Tacs at the time. The man finally looked up at me, and I gasped. I was terrified and could feel an intense heat between my legs, where wetness suddenly grew. I mean seriously, what the f**k? He had such a fit body. Broad and muscly with a perfectly round ass I could bite into. His skin had a nice tan to it and was covered in tattoos that were peeking out from his black shirt, which had one too many buttons undone, and his sleeves rolled up. The best part, though, was those eyes. Dark chocolate brown that you could just melt into, with naturally black, cropped at the back and side and longer at the top, hair. f**k me, it’s like this guy came out of a wet dream just to torture me. He started toward me after dropping George’s dead weight on the ground, obviously finally dead after everything, and slammed me against the wall with a hand to my throat. “Who are you?” he growled. f**k, why was that so sexy? “Ava Greenwich,” I choked out. He looked over my features with a look of curiosity. I have long blonde locks that are currently in a high ponytail with curls, average-sized breasts, a small waist, round hips, and legs for days. Currently, I’m wearing my court suit consisting of a navy pencil skirt, light blue blouse, and navy blazer with navy heels. Seriously, he needed to stop looking like he wanted to eat me, because my damn brain is currently in my very wet p***y, and I just might let him. He looked back up and straight into my eyes when he had finished assessing me. “You’re a lawyer,” he said as a matter of fact. “Are you related to Ignacio Greenwich?” “Unfortunately, I’m his daughter.” I spat. He eyed my spite curiously, as if he had everything else, still with his hand around my neck, pinning me to the wall. He let me go slowly, probably to make sure I wasn’t going to run. “Your father is no longer my lawyer; you are. Consider this scene the start of your client attorney privilege,” he said with a smirk. “And what if I don’t accept you as a client?” He put his hand back around my throat and pinned me against the wall, yet again. “Then I will have no choice but to tighten the current hand on your pretty little throat and watch as the light dies in your eyes. Ignacio’s daughter be damned,” he warned. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at him. “Fine. I’ll take you on as a client, but no need to threaten me when there’s no love lost between me and the man you just killed.” He c****d his eyebrow at that while letting me go again. “Oh?” My furrowing brows and pursed lips probably said it all, but I confirmed it anyway: “ex-boyfriend.” “Then I’m glad I killed him,” he growled. “I will see you tomorrow, Miss Greenwich, for our first meeting on how to move forward with our arrangement.” Glad he killed him? Why would he be glad he killed George just because he’s my ex-boyfriend? I straightened myself back up while trying to deal with this situation in my head. I mean, what is going on right now? I didn’t know my dad had arrangements with anyone where he would be, at least I’m assuming, needed regularly. I held out my hand while looking into his dark chocolate-brown eyes. “I will need to move a few things around, but if you could come in at noon tomorrow, that would be great.” He grabbed my hand, shook it once, and pulled me impossibly close to him, our lips near touching. I let out a barely audible gasp, but somehow, this man heard it and smirked. “My name is Enzo King, although I’m sure you already recognise me. See you then, Miss Greenwich.” I watched him approach George’s body and pull out a phone. Finally, I found that I could move my legs again; I left the alley and headed to my car. I am now so wet that I’m dripping out of my underwear and down my legs. Why was it so f*****g hot, and how am I to survive having Enzo King as a client if this is how my body reacted to him? I am so f****d. Well… Tomorrow at work will be great fun when my dad finds out I’ve ‘poached’ one of his clients. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of his angry expression and clenched fists when he found out. f**k you, Dad.