Chapter 5 #2
As soon as I step out of the car, a heavy presence settles right onto my chest, like someone is watching me. Jamie leaves to park the car, and a black sedan pulls up alongside the kerb, the passenger door opening to reveal a stocky, built man in a dark blue suit.
“Get in the back, now.”
The hair on my neck stands, sensing the danger immediately as I survey my surroundings.
“Who—”
He shifts his blazer to the side, the barrel of his gun aimed in my direction as it rests on his thigh.
I swallow, hoping I haven’t made a mistake by taking on this case.
Opening the door to the back, I hesitate momentarily before gliding into the seat.
When the door is shut, the outside world disappears, and the only audible sound is the distinct pounding in my ears.
The two men keep their gazes on the road as the car jostles me from side to side, swerving between cars and coming to a slow stop in a quiet street a few blocks from the courthouse.
I don’t say a word. I just watch as another car pulls up beside this one, and none other than The Casella King steps out of his Porsche and into the seat beside me.
The soft close of the car door brings me back into the cabin, and when my eyes meet his dark ones, intimidation like no other blankets my entire nervous system.
“Isla Knight.”
I don’t speak, waiting for him to continue.
“I’m sure you’ve heard the rumours swirling around London.”
Rumours? Doubtful. I know it to be the truth, and I know what he’s about to ask of me.
“I don’t think I can help you.” I reach for the door, and the lock clicks.
“You haven’t heard what I have to say.”
“It doesn’t matter. Please, let me out of the car.”
My focus shifts to the watch on my wrist. I have ten minutes before I need to be there for Malik’s hearing, and if I’m late, I don’t know what he will do.
He hands me an envelope, and I close my eyes, berating myself for taking and opening it.
I’ve worked for Ezra before. It was the hardest case I’ve taken on, and I don’t particularly want to be involved in anything else he’s dealing with.
The carnage he left behind with the feud between his family and the Brayfords was enough of an experience for me.
“Everything you need to win this for Mr Faris is in there.” He stops me before I can look at the contents of the envelope. “With one condition.”
There’s always a condition.
“I don’t need your help to win this. That’s why you hired me before, because you knew I could win.”
He smiles and leans back, shifting in his seat to face me, his black button-up shirt now revealing the family crest he has inked onto his pec.
“I’ll pay you a retainer fee three times the last, plus an hourly rate for every hour you spend on this.
” His face returns to the hard, unnerving one he exhibited before, and a shiver rolls through me.
“I don’t take no for an answer, Miss Knight. ”
No, he doesn’t. I’m left with no choice. One thing about Ezra Casella is that he does his homework. He digs into everyone’s past and present. He knows everything about you, even the things you wish would stay hidden in the past, and especially the ones you don’t want anyone to discover.
“Are you going to hold this over me until I die?”
The air thins between us, and the intensity in his stare is something I’ve never come across before, void of empathy or any human emotion.
“As long as you live, you’ll be working for me, Miss Knight.”
The only solace that comes with that statement is knowing I’ll be protected like a valued asset, but I don’t want to be an asset anymore. All the money in the world could never rewrite the past, and that’s the only thing I want more than to silence the hateful voice in my head.
I nod, agreeing to his terms, then pull out the various photographs from the envelope.
They’re of Malik and Tony in his penthouse.
The first is of them talking. Malik looks angry, but his hands are in his pockets with no visible weapon on him.
I flick to the next one, where Tony is reaching for something in his pocket and Malik is stepping towards him.
I’m about to tell Ezra that I cannot use these in court when I shift to a photo of another man appearing inside the penthouse behind Tony with a large mallet in his hands.
The last photo shows a man in a mask, holding the weapon covered in blood in his hands, with Tony unconscious on the floor. Malik is noticeably absent.
“Before you tell me these are not admissible in court, I have someone on standby ready to swear under oath to committing the crime, and he’s waiting by the courthouse for my direction,” Ezra says with confidence.
Of course. He’s always three steps ahead. Once this gets dismissed and Malik is exonerated, I’m afraid of what will happen next. With each tick of my watch, the pressure mounts on top of me, piling onto the already existing self-loathing I try to hide.
“I need to see a contract and terms. I won’t agree to anything until—”
The man in the driver’s seat hands Ezra another envelope, this one slightly thicker, and he places it beside me, along with a wad of cash on top.
“This should cover the first few weeks for a cease and desist to the London Harbinger, plus a little extra on the side for a meeting with your father.”
I stare at him, bewildered by his request.
“My father will never agree to meet with you. He’s a judge, a man of the law. What makes you think I can convince him to meet with the most notorious criminal in the United Kingdom?”
His smile is slow as he cocks his head. “Don’t tell me you haven’t lied before, Miss Knight. One more won’t hurt.”