Double Standards (The Notorious Five #1)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

“ S hit,” I mutter to myself as I stare at the television screen in morbid fascination. Every hair on my body stands on end as I watch the footage of a bagged-up body being wheeled into a black van with the word ‘coroner’ emblazoned on the side.

My boyfriend, Cooper, appears behind me, hovering over the back of the couch to get a look at what has me so captivated. I hear him shifting nervously as he watches the news reporter on the screen. “What’s up?”

“Someone killed the Mayor,” I murmur into my coffee mug, just as the news anchor shuffles the papers on the desk before moving onto her next topic.

“Damn,” Cooper drawls, slurping a sip of his coffee. “Do they know who did it?”

I shake my head silently, actively listening for more information. When shit hits the fan like this, it’s certain that my office is going to be buzzing with the news. “There’s talk about ‘The Five’,” I finally answer. “But that’s no surprise.”

The Five are the largest crime organization in America, made up of five ruthless Mafia families who are all out for the same thing.

Power and blood. There have been rumors lately of the families calling a truce, relinquishing their hold over the city, but that’s only gossip; word of mouth that has no substance.

This must be their way of telling New York they won't be standing down. That thought is unsettling, to say the least, because if they’re willing to murder the Mayor, is anybody off limits?

It’s common knowledge that the District Attorney has been working overtime to pin them down, one at a time.

He’s been at it for years, trying to reform the city and create some semblance of safety and normality.

It’s a futile attempt to battle the remorseless Five Families.

Everyone knows that they have all kinds of tricks up their sleeves and money to bribe their way out of trouble.

Maybe this time, the D.A. has finally called check-mate and broken down the Commission that is The Five.

With an exasperated sigh, I push up from the couch, walking to the kitchen to place my mug in the sink. I feel Cooper wrap his arms around me, snuggling into my neck and breaking up my thoughts. “Speaking of surprises,” he purrs against my ear, “why don’t you call in sick today?”

I know exactly what he’s insinuating and I’m not quite sure why I hate the thought.

It’s safe to say our love life has been lacking recently, but I can’t fault him for trying.

We’ve both been busy with our own work—mostly myself—and haven’t really been making time for each other.

It’s something I’ve been feeling extremely guilty about as of late, yet I can’t put off my job just to give my boyfriend a quickie.

Turning in his arms, I thread my own around his waist, giving his sweet ass a quick squeeze. “I wish I could, but I have to close this case today.”

It’s taken me two months to finally get my current client’s charges lifted.

A man— who by all accounts should be facing at least twenty years in prison— is being punished with a mere slap on the wrist. But it’s not my job to judge and sentence.

I’m hired to defend and I’m good at my job.

It’s a damn miracle I was able to break a case as solid as this one so quickly, though.

But today is the day my client will finally get closure, and I’ll move on to work on the next case that lands on my desk.

Sometimes being an attorney is a thankless job.

Cooper’s hazel eyes meet mine, his disappointment evident. His shoulders sag as he hangs his head, his sandy blonde hair sweeping across his forehead.

“Maybe we can go out tonight?” I suggest in an attempt to soften the blow.

While we’re arguably happy in our shitty little apartment in the Bronx, I can tell Cooper’s been restless lately.

He thought by now he’d be living his dreams, but being a writer is difficult.

Few publishers are interested in his fan fiction, but he’s dead set on making a living out of it, even if it’s the last thing he does.

No matter how many discussions and conversations we have, the outcome is always the same.

I work hard for my money. Cooper works even harder, but his income is pitiful.

He pulls away from me with a loud sigh, stepping across the kitchen.

“I’ll see you later.” I peck my absent-minded boyfriend on the cheek as I walk past him, his stubbly jaw scratching my lips.

“Laters.” He waves me off dismissively, settling at the kitchen island with his laptop at the ready.

By the time I make it to my office in Manhattan, the weather has started to turn.

The drizzle of rain that falls from the skies is a morbid backdrop, a feeling of dread settling in the pit of my stomach.

I always look to the weather for signs of how my day will turn out.

Today’s forecast isn’t looking so great.

True to the weather, the day is miserable.

I head to court, and the case I’ve been working on for the past three months ends as expected, with my client clearing his name but unable to claim financial compensation. Still, he’s walking away a free man, despite me knowing the truth of his misdeeds.

It’s late afternoon by the time I step back into my office building. As I make my way towards my office, I pause at my receptionist’s desk, reading the nervous look on her face and the glint of fear flickering in her eyes.

“I couldn’t stop him,” Jada blurts as she stands up from her desk, her gaze sliding to my office door.

“Who?” I follow her terrified gaze to the door of my office, where I see a man sitting inside.

All I can see from this vantage point is his large back—and when I say large, I mean this guy is built like a brick shithouse.

The fabric of his well-tailored suit strains against his muscular back and shoulders, his hulking form filling the seat opposite my desk to the point that I’m sure the chair will leave with him when he stands up.

It’s as if he can feel me leering, surveying him carefully, the man suddenly turns around, his dark brown eyes locking with mine instantly. If looks could kill, he’s teetering on the edge of an assassination attempt.

“Name?” I ask as I turn to face Jada.

She shakes her head in response, meaning she either didn’t have the chance to ask or didn’t push hard enough for an answer.

Taking a deep breath, I stride forward and step through the doorway. I swallow thickly as the man rises to stand in front of me, dark and daunting. His eyes are even more piercing under the harsh light of my office, emphasized by the dull gray cast outside my windows.

His chocolate brown hair is short—not quite a buzz cut, but barely anything to grab. His jawline is strong, sharp, and deadly, sprinkled with a rugged layer of stubble that looks trimmed to perfection. The man is well dressed, wearing a black suit and no tie, and a white shirt seamlessly pressed.

This man wears his look well. He’s undeniably and dangerously handsome, but he exudes the type of danger I make a point to steer clear of.

“Cassidy Caruthers,” I announce with a polite smile, stretching my hand out towards him in greeting .

“I know who you are,” his deep voice replies. There’s a cold bite to his tone that almost sounds bored. He’s detached yet discerning, simple yet unavoidably complex.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Mister…?”

I’m thrown out of the depths of my contemplation when he answers, “Colombo.”

A chill creeps up my spine, settling in a shiver over my shoulders as soon as his name leaves his lips.

The man standing before me is one of The Five.

I swallow hard, burying my anxiety as far down as it will go, but it’s a pointless attempt. I’ve got a shitty poker face, and I can already see that Colombo is reveling in how his demeanor affects me. It’s what men like him are known for, after all. Intimidation tactics at their finest.

“Mr. Colombo.” I circle around my desk, grappling for my diminishing confidence, conscious that his eyes are watching my every move. “What can I do for you?”

“You’ve been requested,” he replies simply.

My mouth goes dry and I suddenly find it difficult to breathe. My stomach twists in knots as I ask, “Requested? By whom?”

Colombo doesn’t answer. Instead, he takes a step closer to the desk and plants a newspaper on it in front of me. I pick it up, eyes zoning in on the article plastered across the front page.

“He will be expecting you tonight. Seven p.m.”

My eyes shoot up, shock encompassing me, and chilling me right to my core. “Excuse me?” I ask as I hand the newspaper back with a shake of my head. “I think you must be confusing me with someone else.”

Evidently that’s the wrong answer, because the next thing I know, Colombo is leaning over my desk, gripping my wrists so hard that I swear I can feel the bruises forming on my skin.

My palms are stuck to the desk as he forces all of his weight into pinning them down, his eyes staring into mine, searching for whatever weakness he can find.

“You don’t say ‘no’ to The Five,” he says through gritted teeth. There’s a definite anger in the way he speaks–-it isn’t aimed at me in particular, but I can see that he is fighting something deep down; something I’m not privy to know.

No sooner has he spoken do my eyes drop to take in his form, catching the glistening metal that peeks from inside his suit jacket.

I feel a flush of heat rise up the back of my neck, landing as red stains of fear across my cheeks. Colombo notices, and that’s enough to satisfy his efforts of persuasion.

After a moment of intense silence, he releases his grip, freeing my sore wrists from his clutches. I rub them tenderly, fighting back the sting of tears as I look back up at him.

“Seven p.m.” he reiterates. “Don’t be late, he hates tardiness.”

And with those last words, Colombo turns on his heel and leaves my office.

The room falls eerily silent as I stare down at the article left on my desk, trying—and failing—to swallow my pride and fear, knowing that I have no choice in this matter.

Dark eyes gaze back at me, full of anger and stoic irritation. The last thing I want to do is represent a man like Axel Bonanno, but just like Colombo said, The Five won’t take no for an answer, and if I value my life, I’ll need to play along.

Axel Bonanno is a name that strikes fear into the hearts of anyone who hears it, let alone reads it.

He’s the head of one of the five leading families in the Mafia, and he’s just as ruthless as his father was, or so they say.

Very few have come face to face with the man without succumbing to some form of torture, or worse.

And I know exactly what he wants with me. I’m one of the most successful defense lawyers in the city and just closed one of the most challenging cases of my career, seemingly with ease.

Not only has this day been filled with press releases boasting of my success, but also with rumors and reports about one of The Five being arrested in connection with the mayor’s murder.

Axel Bonnano , to be specific. Colombo’s sudden appearance in my office has just confirmed those rumors, so I know what Axel wants.

Just like I know there’s no escaping him.

Whether he murdered the mayor or not, you never say ‘no’ to The Five.