CHAPTER FOUR
Deliberatio
“It’s very hard to like men when they work so hard to be unpleasant.” (@deisebloombastic)
“This has to be a joke,” I cursed, feeling my face flush with anger. Celie walked in with a paper in her hand and an expression that told me we were in for quite an afternoon. “Don’t tell me we have another…”
“I won’t.” Celie sat across from me, and I stared at the papers—the third canceled contract in less than a week.
“We should…”
“We’ve already talked about this,” I grumbled. “I’m not caving to some rich kid who thinks he can have whatever he wants.”
“I know… it’s just that things weren’t exactly great even with these contracts.” She rested her hand on the papers. “Without them, I don’t know if we’ll make it to next year.”
“There’s only three days until the new year.”
“Exactly.” Celie huffed.
I stared at the letter the Marino family had sent this morning. I hadn’t even opened it, but I was certain it contained an offer far lower than his initial one—since he’d decided to sabotage all my work and make his proposal impossible to refuse.
“We should at least read it.” Celie read my thoughts.
“I’d hate every second of it,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “You could do it…”
“He made it very clear he wanted you, Helena. Not Torres&Fields.” Celie grabbed the envelope and tore it open before I could brace myself. Her expression as she read shifted from surprise to disbelief so fast I couldn’t even process it.
“What is it?”
“This is…” Celie stared at the paper in disbelief. “Impressive.”
“It can’t be that mu—” I snatched the paper from her hand, and the amount left me stunned, trying to count the zeros. “This is insane.”
“He said he hadn’t even made his best offer yet.” Celie pulled the paper back. “Helena, this would cover almost a year’s worth of office expenses.”
“I know.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“William.”
“I don’t understand.” Celie looked at me, waiting for me to explain.
“William is the prosecutor on the case, and he says it’s a slam dunk.”
“Are you afraid of William?”
“No!” I shot back. “But my father… he convinced William it’s a bait case.”
“Aaah, your father is a bored, retired prosecutor.” Celie and my father hated each other because he’d broken her winning streak. “Besides, a bait case is good for everyone.”
“But I’d lose to William in the case my father assigned him to.” I huffed.
Celie laughed.
“It’s not funny, Celie.”
“Of course it is.” She leaned over the desk. “Who says he’s going to win?”
“He said that…”
“You’re Helena fucking Torres, and you’re afraid of a prosecutor who uses hair gel?”
“He’s not the only one who thinks this case is a guaranteed conviction…” I admitted.
“Uhh… do you think Dante Marino is guilty?”
“I have no idea, Celie. But he’s… strange.”
“Strange because he’s a nerdy guy who sleeps with an alien plushie at twenty-three?” She laughed.
“No. Strange in the way that he could kill if he wanted to, even though nothing about him screams it outright. His eyes in that interrogation…”
“He was tired, Helena. Maybe he just zoned out for a few moments.” Celie stood up. “Anyway, I can’t force you to take the case, but I wanted you to think about it for the sake of our little operation.”
Celie left the room and took my peace with her. She was right. Accepting could change everything. Maybe it would throw me straight into shark-infested waters. But I’d have to deal with this strange, confusing feeling I had about Dante.
I spent a few hours poring over the case documents I’d found in the justice system.
Quentin Darwin’s body had been found in his office, shot four times in the back.
Hours earlier, he’d been seen being followed by a young man roughly matching Dante’s height and build.
Security cameras showed a motorcycle without plates leaving the building where Darwin had been.
Beyond being business partners, the Marinos and the Darwins also shared responsibilities conducting research at Heritage Reference Hospital and were competing for a permanent spot on a major pharmaceutical research project.
Despite this connection, Quentin and Dante were never seen together, and no official accounts of any conflict between them exist. While Darwin devoted his life to the family business, Dante seemed to pull away and carve out his own path in science.
Unlike his sister, who was preparing to study pharmacology and carry on the family business, Dante threw himself into developing robotic technologies and was gearing up to launch a project with a renowned space exploration company.
It was a weak case for the prosecution, but William still seemed confident. There had to be something more. Some ace up his sleeve.
My phone rang. The prison line. If it was Dante, I’d be happy to ignore it. But if it wasn’t, I could be turning away a real client. One I actually cared about.
It rang too long. I was about to pick up when the phone went silent.
I breathed a sigh of relief for two seconds before my desk extension rang. I snatched the receiver and pressed it to my ear.
“You are receiving a call from Braxton Penitentiary in Alta. To accept, stay on the line.” The operator’s voice droned, and my heart raced. What the hell.
“Torres & Fields Associates,” I said.
“Thought you were going to make me waste my last call,” Dante’s deep voice came through from the other end.
“If I’d known it was your last one, I would’ve let it go to voicemail.”
“It’s amazing what half a dozen cigarettes can get you in here.”
“So why are you wasting your time and cigarettes on me?”
“Have you heard from my family?”
“You mean that flashy document on my desk?” I leaned back in my chair and stared out the window as a sarcastic laugh crackled through the phone.
“I like your style.”
“What, completely despising anyone who tries to buy me? Your little tactic of putting me in debt to force my hand is pretty low.”
Dante breathed into the phone like he was right in my ear.
“Is it working?” he teased. The bastard was toying with me.
“Looks like you wasted your cigarettes.” I spun my chair from side to side.
“Doctor, do me a favor? When you come visit me, wear red.” He hung up before I could respond. The bastard didn’t even give me the satisfaction of hanging up on him first. He hung up on me.
“Who was that?” Celie appeared in the doorway. “Was it him?”
“Yes. The bastard hung up on me.”
Celie crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe.
“You picked a fight with a big dog.”
I stared at her.
“He’s more like a spoiled poodle.” I set the phone back in its cradle. “And he has no idea who he’s dealing with.”
“Promise me we’ll still have an office when you two are done?” Celie called out, heading to her desk.
“We’re already done, Celie.”