Chapter 4
Four
I sobel stepped into the elevator, the familiar hum vibrating through her as the doors slid shut. The early morning sunlight filtered through the glass, casting a warm glow on the polished metal walls. She straightened her blazer, mentally preparing for the day ahead. But as the elevator ascended, her mind kept drifting back to the dinner last night and, more specifically, to Brad.
She had known him for years, always seeing him as Olivia’s close friend, the reliable guy who was just part of their family orbit. He had always been kind, easy to talk to, and if she was honest with herself, more attractive than she’d ever admit out loud. At forty, he was twelve years older than her, and she had always dismissed her crush on him as something childish, something fleeting. But last night changed that.
The way Brad explained D/s dynamics stirred something in her. The trust, the control, the idea of being vulnerable in a safe space—it was more complex, more intriguing than she had imagined. It wasn’t just about power; it was about letting go, about finding someone who could handle that responsibility and protect you. As he spoke, she’d felt something inside her shift—a deep, unexpected pull of curiosity. And if she were truly honest, something else had stirred within her too.
She felt aroused.
It wasn’t just the concept that had sparked her interest, but Brad himself. The way he looked at her while explaining it—intensely, almost as if he was speaking directly to her, not the room. For years, she’d pushed any thoughts of him away, convinced they were just remnants of a silly crush. But now, she wasn’t so sure. She couldn’t deny it anymore: her feelings for him had never really faded. They had just grown up, evolved into something far more serious, far more adult.
The idea of Brad as a Dom, of her as a submissive. Was it real, or was it a fantasy? It was jarring and exciting at the same time. She knew she had a lot to learn, but the thought of exploring this part of herself, of researching D/s dynamics and understanding how they worked excited her. Last night had awakened something inside her, and she wasn’t sure she could ignore it anymore.
As the elevator reached her floor, Isobel exhaled, her fingers tapping lightly against her side. The cases she had to handle today demanded her focus, but her mind kept drifting back to Brad.
Isobel walked down the quiet corridor, the carpet muffling her footsteps as she approached her office door. Sliding the key into the lock, she felt an unexpected chill. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, but as she pushed the door open and scanned the room, everything appeared in its usual place. Shaking off the uneasy feeling, she moved inside and switched on the lights, illuminating the modern yet cozy space.
She headed straight to the coffee maker, needing the comforting ritual of brewing a fresh cup. Once her mug was filled with the rich, aromatic liquid, she carried it to her desk, savoring the warmth in her hands. Glancing down at her phone buzzing insistently on her desk, she saw Brad's name flashing on the screen.
“Dr. Everhart!” she sang out, her voice bright with that effortless cheer she kept, even early in the morning.
There was a soft chuckle on the other end. “Good morning, Dr. Everhart. Or should I just call you Belle? How's your morning going?”
She relaxed, leaning back in her chair, feeling the comforting familiarity of Brad’s voice. “I think it’s still a Dr. Everhart kind of morning,” she teased back. “Nothing too exciting here yet, just the usual. How about you?”
“Oh, you know,” Brad replied, his tone relaxed but carrying something else, something almost cautious, “I’ve been thinking.”
Isobel raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Uh-oh. That sounds serious. What about?”
Brad hesitated then cleared his throat, sounding more direct than she’d heard him in a while. “About this whole situation, the case with your patient’s boyfriend. I want to know the name of that club he’s been hanging out at. I’d like to take you there; let you see it for yourself.”
Isobel’s stomach fluttered at the idea, a mixture of excitement and nerves flickering to life. “That’s… really thoughtful of you, Brad. It’s called Hot Shots. In Pierre.”
There was a pause, and she could almost picture his face, the way he’d look at her with that subtle intensity of his. “Okay, Hot Shots,” he repeated. “But, listen, if we do this, there’s one condition. You don’t leave my side. Understood?”
Isobel felt her heart skip. The way he said it, the protectiveness in his voice, sent a thrill through her. She knew he was serious, that he was aware of the risks. But it was something more—a promise of sorts.
“Understood,” her voice softened. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
She heard him exhale, relieved and maybe even a little pleased.
“What do I wear?” she asked.
“Dance club clothes. I’ll pick you up at eight.”
“See you then.”
Isobel's desk was a picture of organized chaos. Files and papers were neatly stacked, her computer sat ready for use, and a few personal items, a photo of her family and a small potted plant, added a personal touch. After setting her mug down, she moved to the file cabinet in the corner, pulling open a drawer and retrieving two files.
The first file was on the original case of the two deceased teenagers, a case that still niggled at her with its unresolved questions. She set it aside for later. The second file was for her first appointment of the day, the ten-year-old girl coming in with her guardian ad litem to discuss her feelings about her parents and the relapse of her childhood cancer. The case was heart-wrenching, a complex tangle of emotions and medical decisions compounded by a nasty custody battle.
Isobel took a deep breath and opened the file. Inside were detailed medical reports describing the girl's original cancer and its relapse, survival rates, and treatment options. Her eyes skimmed over the clinical language. Everything pointed to treatments, though difficult, would make her cancer survivable. Also included were descriptions of what they discussed at dinner.
She glanced at the clock, noting she had some time before her appointment. Her experience told her that understanding the family dynamics was crucial before forming any professional opinion.
Isobel knew she had to be careful. The court was relying on her professional opinion to help decide the best course of action for the girl's care. Only by hearing the four adults’ perspectives and assessing their motivations could she provide a fair and balanced recommendation.
With her decision made, Isobel made a note to schedule these meetings. She wouldn't render her professional opinion until she had all the necessary information. Her role was to advocate for the child's best interests, a responsibility she took very seriously.
As the clock edged closer to the appointment time, Isobel closed the file and took a moment to collect her thoughts. She knew the upcoming discussion would be difficult, but she was prepared to offer the support and guidance needed. Taking a final sip of her coffee, she stood up, ready to meet the young girl and her guardian.
Isobel inhaled a deep breath before opening the door to the waiting area. She found the girl, Emma, sitting next to her guardian ad litem, Ms. Reed. Emma’s face was pale, her eyes dull. Ms. Reed, a kind-looking woman in her fifties, gave Isobel an encouraging nod.
"Good morning, Emma. Ms. Reed," Isobel greeted them with a warm smile. "Please, come in."
Emma stood up slowly, clutching a worn-out teddy bear, and followed Isobel into her office. Ms. Reed walked behind her, offering silent support. Isobel led them to a small sitting area with comfortable chairs and a low table, designed to make her young clients feel at ease.
"Would you like anything to drink? Water, juice?"
Emma shook her head, her grip on the teddy bear tightening. Ms. Reed gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "I think she's fine, thank you."
Isobel took a seat opposite Emma, her demeanor calm and approachable. "Emma, I know it’s not easy to talk about these things, but I'm here to listen and help in any way I can. Whatever you say here is important, and I want to make sure your voice is heard."
Emma nodded, her eyes fixed on a spot on the carpet. Isobel gave her a moment before speaking again. "Can you tell me a bit about how you're feeling, Emma? About everything that's been going on?"
Emma took a deep breath, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm scared. I don't want to be sick again."
Isobel nodded, her expression empathetic. "That’s completely understandable. It’s a very tough situation. What are you most scared about?"
Emma’s eyes welled up with tears. "The treatments hurt. And... and my mom and dad are always fighting about it. They don’t ask me what I want."
Ms. Reed squeezed Emma's shoulder gently. Isobel leaned in slightly, her voice soft. "What do you want, Emma?"
Emma hesitated, glancing at her guardian ad litem for comfort. Ms. Reed nodded encouragingly. "It’s okay, Emma. You can tell Isobel anything."
"I want... I want to be happy. I want to go to school and hang out with my friends. I don't want to die," Emma's voice broke, and a tear slipped down her cheek.
Isobel felt a pang in her heart. "Emma, it's very brave of you to share that with me. I know your parents love you very much and want what's best for you. It's important they understand how you feel."
Emma wiped her tears with the back of her hand. "Dad thinks I should keep doing all the treatments, but they make me so sick. Mom says maybe I should stop if it's too much. I don't know what to do."
Isobel nodded. "It's a difficult choice, and it’s not fair that your parents are making you decide. We’re here to help you and your parents make the best decision for you. It's important they know how the treatments make you feel. And it’s important for you to understand the value of each treatment. Would you like for your doctors and Ms. Reed and me to speak with you? Ms. Reed can arrange that if you want."
Emma looked at Isobel. “You’ll do that?”
“Yes.” Isobel smiled.
Ms. Reed spoke up, her voice gentle but firm. "Emma has been very brave through all of this. She needs her parents to work together for her sake, not against each other."
“Emma, tell me what it’s like at your mom’s and dad’s houses?”
Emma looked down. “Dad and his girlfriend have a condo. I have my own room. And they have a cat and a dog.” She smiled. “We make dinner, watch movies. They let my friends come over. And when I’m scared or don’t feel good, Dad sleeps in my blow-up chair beside me.”
She held the teddy bear tightly. “Mom has the house Dad and she used to live in. Mom and I used to do things together. But since her boyfriend moved in, we have dinner, and then I’m sent to my room. They either hang out in their room doing it—they’re noisy. Or they go to his club.”
“What happens if you don’t feel well?” Isobel asked.
“I don’t tell her. She gets upset,” Emma said.
Isobel nodded. "Emma, would you feel comfortable if I talked to your parents about what you’ve shared with me today? I think it’s important they hear it from you, but I can help make that conversation happen."
Emma nodded slowly. "Okay. But can you tell them to stop fighting? It makes everything worse."
"I will do my best," Isobel promised. "Your feelings are very important, and I’ll make sure they understand that. And we’ll talk more about your fears."
Emma managed a small smile. "Thank you."
Isobel smiled back. "You’re very welcome, Emma.”
As the interview concluded, Isobel’s stomach grumbled, a combination of the responsibility she carried as well as how hungry she was. She realized she hadn’t eaten anything since dinner the night before.
After the emotionally charged interview, Isobel returned to her desk. She needed a moment to decompress and refuel. She called her assistant to ask if she wanted anything. She gave her a quick no. Then she called her favorite deli down the street, ordering her usual salad and a sandwich for delivery. It was a small comfort.
While waiting for her food, Isobel decided to make some important calls. She dialed her sister Ruth, a formidable defense attorney who had been by her side when Detective Larson brought her in for questioning.
"Ruthie,” she greeted her sister warmly.
"How are you holding up?" Ruth's voice was both concerned and professional.
"Okay. I have a busy workday. I’d like to talk about the new murders. I was hoping you could get some information about what the police have. Can we meet sometime today? I’ll bring the original case file."
"Of course. How about three PM at my office?" Ruth suggested.
"Perfect. I'll see you then," Isobel confirmed, feeling a bit more at ease knowing Ruth would lend her expertise.
Next, Isobel called her other sister, Sophie, a medical doctor whose party she had missed due to the discovery of the two dead teens. The line rang a few times before Sophie picked up, her voice cheerful as always.
"Hey, Izzy. Are you alright?”
Isobel chuckled softly. "You mean after Brad’s kinky lesson? It was interesting.”
"It was surprising. Did it help your case?” Sophie asked.
"Part of it," Isobel said. "He’s taking me to the club the boyfriend goes to tonight.”
“Izzy, are you sure you want to do that?”
“Yes,” she said emphatically. Soph, I need your medical opinion on that case. The ten-year-old girl has had a relapse of childhood acute lymphoblastic leukemia. The situation is complicated by the custody battle over her treatment. What can you tell me about the latest progress in treating relapsed ALL?"
"Hmm, that sucks. Relapsed ALL can be tough, but there have been significant advances in treatment. New protocols often include targeted therapies and immunotherapies, which have shown promising results. CAR-T cell therapy, in particular, has been a breakthrough. It's not without risks, but it's an option worth considering. The survival rates have improved with these newer treatments, but it's crucial to balance the aggressiveness of treatment with the quality of life. Depending on the patient, it is survivable. But for more, you’d have to speak with the child’s oncologist.”
Isobel sighed. "Thanks, Soph. This helps a lot. It’s a bitter dispute, and she’s caught in the middle. I need to make a recommendation to the court, and I want to ensure I have the most current and accurate information."
"Of course. If you need more detailed information or want to discuss her case further, just let me know. I can ask Tristan to sit in on a meeting with the girl’s oncologist. There aren’t that many in the area. All you’d need is a release form.”
"Thanks, Soph. I really appreciate it.”
“Anytime.” Sophie paused. “Brad was quite focused on you,” she said, her tone teasing but just pointed enough to make Isobel flinch.
Isobel’s nervous laugh bubbled out. “Oh, come on. Brad’s just… Brad. He’s a family friend. You know that.” Even though Sophie couldn’t see her, she waved a hand dismissively, but the way Sophie inhaled told her she wasn’t buying it.
“Uh-huh,” Sophie said, drawing out the syllables. “Sure. Family friends don’t usually look like they’re trying to figure out how to be around someone without tripping over their own emotions.”
Isobel laughed again, but this time it sounded almost nervous, even to her. “Love you, Sophie. Talk soon!” She slipped the words out quickly, eager to escape her sister’s laser-focused intuition.
She ended the call, shaking her head as she placed her phone down. Her sisters loved to meddle, and sometimes she adored it—but other times, like now, it hit too close to home.
Isobel leaned back on the couch, letting her head rest against it. Sophie’s words stayed with her, though, floating in the quiet space of her mind. Did it mean more? Could it mean more?
Brad’s voice from earlier that day echoed in her head: You don’t leave my side. There was something in his tone, something protective, yes, but also… possessive?
A knot of nervous energy curled in her stomach. What did Brad really want? A friendship? Or something far deeper, more layered than either of them had acknowledged?
Questions rolled through her thoughts like a tide she couldn’t stop. Was he a Dom? Did he see her as submissive? The idea both thrilled and terrified her. She had no idea if Brad’s intensity came from wanting to protect her, guide her, or if he was simply acting out of a sense of duty. But the way he looked at her, the way he spoke… it hinted at something else. Something far more deliberate.
Her heart beat faster, and she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to still the rush of emotions flooding through her. Could she handle what he wanted, if it was a relationship? Could she handle him ?
Isobel sighed, closing her eyes and letting the questions settle. She wasn’t sure of any answers yet, but one thing was clear: Brad’s presence in her life had shifted. And whether she was ready to admit it or not, so had her feelings.
After hanging up, Isobel felt a sense of clarity in the other matter. Armed with Sophie’s medical insights, she felt better prepared to navigate Emma’s case. Her food arrived, and she took a few moments to eat, savoring the brief respite.