"Roxanne?" Debbie says, concern evident on her face. "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

I wish it had just been a ghost... I think to myself.

"I'm sorry about that. I'm just embarrassed about dropping the files." I say, instead.

"Oh, okay." She says, not pushing further. "Let me show you to your shared office." She adds, beginning to lead me back in the direction of her desk.

While I know it's just Debbie and I in the hallway, I get an uneasy feeling that I'm being watched.

My paranoia keeps me on high alert as Debbie leads me past her desk, then past a set of double doors that mirror Mr. Johnson's.

Finally, she stops in front of a large door. I barely register the grandeur of the office as I step into it. 

Zaria is sitting casually at the main desk in the room. Her laidback position with her feet crossed on the desk exudes power. She places her phone in her lap as she focuses her attention onto me. 

I make a conscious effort to appear put together; but, her gaze makes me feel completely exposed. 

 A small smirk forms on her face. "I see you've learned what the case is about." She says.

Realization dawns on me. "You knew." I say, walking towards her desk. 

Her obnoxious laugh fills the room. "Of course, I knew. I couldn't wait to see your face when you found out." She says, looking incredibly pleased with herself. 

I stop in front of her desk, and drop the files in front of her. "I'm not doing it." I say, firmly. "You can't expect me to help defend the guy who hurt my-" 

I struggle to find the word to describe what Hakeem is to me. He technically isn't my boyfriend, but I don't think the word friend encompasses my feelings for him, either. 

"Your...?" Zaria questions, visibly enjoying my discomfort. 

"Look, the point is, I can't work on this case." I say. 

To my surprise, Zaria takes her feet off the desk and lets out a sigh. She stands and walks around to my side of the desk. 

"Well, if you insist." She says. 

"Thank you." 

"I'll just tell my dad you quit." She continues, walking towards the door. "You lasted even shorter than I expected." 

"Wait." I call out, causing her to stop and turn to face me. "I don't quit the job. I would just prefer to be moved to a different case." I explain. 

"Sweetie..." She says, a fake smile forming on her face. "Do you really think my father wants an intern who folded on her first case?" 

I realize that she has a point. It would look really bad if I quit on my first ever case. Then I wouldn't have the job of my dreams any longer. 

I'm in an awful position, but maybe I can fulfill my responsibilities without actually helping Hakeem's father get away with what he did. I begin to wonder why he even chose this firm. I doubt the legal fees are affordable here, judging from the look of the firm, and how did child abuse land him the label of "high-profile"? 

A series of questions begin to swirl through my head. But, I turn my attention back to Zaria. 

"You're right. I take it back. I can do this." I say, trying to convince myself of the last part. 

"Whatever, loser." She says, rolling her eyes. 

I refrain myself from snapping back, too focused on my internal dilemma to even care. 

"I need some coffee before I show you what to do." She says. "Go get me some." She demands. 

"I don't even know where the coffee is." 

"Ask Debbie." She shrugs, returning to her seat. "Now. Before I call my dad and tell him about your conflict of interest." She adds with a confident smirk. 

"You're a b-tch." I reply, reluctantly walking out to find Debbie and the coffee. 

Once I'm outside the door, I pull out my phone to text Ruby. My feet lead me back in the direction I came in as my fingers begin aggressively typing a rant. My frustration propels me forward and I reach the reception area quicker than I expected. 

I look up to see the man of my nightmares standing at Debbie's desk. I immediately stop walking and spin 180 degrees. 

"Roxanne! Perfect. Could you take Mr. Rashford here to the kitchen. He would like a cup of coffee." Debbie says, forcing me to slowly turn back around. 

His dark eyes bore into me. I try to pretend he's not there by keeping my eyes focused on Debbie. 

"I'm sorry, I don't know where the kitchen is. I was actually coming out here to run an important errand for Zaria." I say, hoping she takes him, instead. 

I'd rather return to Zaria empty handed than be alone with this man for a split second. 

Debbie opens her mouth to respond, but is cut off by her phone ringing. I watch as she picks it up, trying to pretend he isn't present. 

"I'll be right there, sir." Debbie says, looking frazzled for the first time during my short time knowing her. 

She puts the phone down and picks up a few papers from her desk. "Roxanne, take Mr. Rashford to floor thirteen. Thank you." She adds before scurrying away. 

I continue staring at her desk, willing her to reappear and take this man away from me. 

A deep chuckle sends chills through me. "You're not as feisty as I remember." He says. 

My eyes shift to the floor and I walk towards the elevators. I hope my silence will prompt him to keep his distance. The elevator dings upon arrival, cuing us to step into the small space. The doors close and I feel like I'm being suffocated, even though he stands on the opposite side of the elevator. 

I position myself in front of the doors, urging the elevator to move quickly. I struggle not to squirm under his intense gaze. 

"The elevator would move faster if you pressed the button for the thirteenth floor." He says. 

I look over at the buttons and realize I actually didn't press any. I quietly press the thirteen button. The elevator finally moves. 

A few seconds later, it opens to the thirteenth floor and I practically jump out. I scan my ID card at the only door on this floor. It buzzes and I open it to reveal an expansive kitchen area. I walk toward the row of sleek black coffee machines. 

"I like mine black. No sugar. No cream." He declares, leaning on the counter not even a few inches from me. 

His close proximity casts a shadow over the coffee machine I chose, leaving me fumbling with the buttons. 

"So, how's my sorry excuse for a son?" He asks, refusing to just leave me alone. 

I ignore his question. 

Unfortunately for me, he takes this as a cue to wrap his large hand around my right wrist. 

"I have a very low tolerance for disrespect. Respond when I speak to you." He commands, tightening his hold on my wrist. 

I struggle against his hold, the feeling of his hand around my throat resurfacing. 

"Luckily for you, you're more useful unscathed." He says, releasing my wrist. "But, don't push me." 

"Leave me alone, you sick monster." I say, finally mustering up the courage to do so. 

"No." He replies, simply. "I assume the cops are going to ask Hakeem to testify against me. You're going to convince him not to." 

"I'm not doing anything to help you." I say, crossing my arms. 

He takes a step closer to me, leans down towards my ear, and whispers,  "Think about what happens to people who go from useful to useless before you make your choice..."  

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Hey guys :) 

Three updates in a row? Wow! 

Thank you guys sm for 15k reads! I'm so happy you're enjoying my book so far <3 

Leave a vote and a comment if you want a fourth update in a row!

xoxo
-Gaëlle