Cruel Enforcer by Maggie Cole

7

Kora

For thirteen years,I've been an attorney. There's a misconception about high-net-worth divorces. People assume domestic abuse only happens to poor women. It's a big lie. In some ways, it makes the process of divorce even harder.

When one person controls all the assets and has powerful connections, they can make your life a bigger hell than before. I've not taken a dime from Selena. I normally require multiple deposits throughout a case as my time begins to rack up. When women like Selena come to me, it's typically through a friend. They never ask. They believe no one will help them and there is no way out.

Once I hear their story, I work the case for free. I don't even take anything once the divorce is settled and their prick ex-husbands have to pay them. For what these women have gone through, they deserve to keep every penny. The satisfaction of knowing I helped them is better than money for me. Plus, I take on enough standard high-net-worth cases, so I'm not hurting for cash.

Selena's case has many layers to it. She's an immigrant from Greece. Jack is nearing fifty. She's barely thirty. They met while he was on vacation. She fell hard for him, and he convinced her to leave her family and marry him.

Over time, he cut off all her ties to her family. Things got so bad, they made her choose between him or them. She was already living in fear, since Jack was hitting her. Her family disowned her. He's an uber-rich businessman with political and judicial connections. It doesn't help Selena. He also refused to allow her to become a U.S. citizen. Over the years, he renewed her green card, which ensures she doesn't have the same rights he does. One wrong move and she could end up deported. She's petrified she'll end up homeless in Greece or here.

I tried to get her into a shelter, but everywhere is full. I offered to let her stay at my condo, which I shouldn't do, since it's crossing the attorney-client line, but the words were coming out of my mouth before I could stop them.

I need to keep a level head at all times while I'm fighting for her. Getting too close to a client can interrupt my ability to fight for them. Emotions need to be kept out of my negotiations. When I worked on Aspen's divorce, I struggled to maintain my cool. Peter wasn't beating Aspen. He's just a spineless moocher. Before the other week, I never thought I would add thief to the list of his undesirable traits. In Selena's situation, I have a more challenging time not bringing emotion into my battle. Her story hits personal nerves for me.

When I was a child, my mother had an abusive boyfriend. The only reason it stopped was because he died. Rumor has it my cousins took care of him. I pray we never find out. Somehow, prison for killing a man who abuses women doesn't seem to be justified in my eyes. I still see my mother's beaten face and limp body lying on the ground. So, in a lot of ways, it's good Selena refused to move in with me.

There are many women I've helped over the years. Some of their spouses have assets. Some don't. I won't lie and say taking down a rich man who thinks he's above it all because of his connections doesn't feed something in my soul.

Over the years, I've had numerous men get in my face. Sometimes it's other attorneys. When their clients do it, half the time the lawyer pulls them away from me, and the other half they stand by, similar to how Larry didn't step in. It makes my insides shake and takes everything I have to not back down, but no one is going to intimidate my clients or me.

None of them have ever hurt me. I did have to file restraining orders against a few of my clients' exes to stay away from me after several threats. At this point in my career, I consider it part of the job.

Sergey came out of nowhere. I'm not used to anyone fighting my work battles for me. I saw the rage in Jack's eyes, and my gut flipped faster than it usually does in these situations. I can't help but wonder if he would have hit me if Sergey hadn't stepped in. Larry wouldn't have stopped him. My body turned from quivering fear to the throbbing I always feel when I'm around Sergey. It's the same feeling I had when he took charge in my office and threatened Peter. I shouldn't feel excited when he displays his power over other men, but something about it turns me on.

The thoughts I have are mixed about how he stepped in. I'm grateful he gave Selena a place to stay, but I'm used to fighting these issues on my own. My gut tells me Sergey isn't going to forget about Jack, either. The last thing I need is this case to get more complicated if Jack decides to talk to his friends in high places about Sergey's threats.

"Kora, I'll meet you in the lobby. Take your time," he says in his deep Russian accent.

When the door shuts, I turn to Selena. "Are you okay?"

She nods and sweetly smiles. "Yes. Is Sergey your boyfriend?"

"No."

I want him to be.

That isn't a smart idea for so many reasons.

He's emotionally unavailable. It won't happen, so stop worrying about it.

She furrows her eyebrows. "Really? Why not?"

"I just met him," I blurt out.

Her grin widens. "He seems pretty enthralled with you."

Time to move this conversation away from Sergey and me.

"I think it's best if you stay in the apartment as much as possible. The security guard said your code for the elevator works for the roof as well. It might be best if you utilize it for fresh air but keep out of sight. I don't trust Jack not to look for you."

Her face falls. She nods. "Okay."

"I have an older laptop. I'll bring it by and set up an account for groceries to be delivered. Clothes, too. You'll need some things."

"It's too much."

I put my hand on her shoulder. "Selena, this isn't the time to not accept help."

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Her lids flutter open, and her eyes glass over. "You're already doing so much for me."

I snort. "You forgot how fun it is for me to take Jack down."

She bites her lip.

"What size are you?"

"Medium to large, depending on the brand."

"I'll have some clothes sent over tonight. Do you have the burner phone I gave you?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'll call you tomorrow. If you need anything in the meantime, call me."

"Okay. Thank you." She hugs me, and I return her embrace. I leave, and when I step into the lobby, heat courses through me. The pulsing in my body begins. Sergey's talking with the security officer. His T-shirt stretches over his back muscles. I have to refrain from reaching out and touching him.

He's speaking Russian. The security guard glances over Sergey's shoulder at me.

Sergey stops talking and spins. He eyes me up slowly, intentionally pausing on different parts of my body and licking his lips while staring at my sex. When he drags his smoldering eyes back to mine, I can't seem to think anymore.

"Selena okay?"

"Yes."

He nods, puts his arm around my waist, and says something in Russian to the guard. He leads me out to the car.

I shouldn't let him touch me. He's a dangerous bad boy.

He's the most unselfish man I've ever come across, based on what he just did for Selena.

Nothing good can come from being around him. He already thinks I'm a piranha and only wants to play games with me.

Once again, I'm putty in his hands. I fall into his body, fitting perfectly, unable to retreat from his arm. He's quicksand, and I'm the girl trapped and unable to get out. The more I tell myself he's not a good idea, the further I fall into his muscular frame.

His scent of sandalwood, lemon, and a hint of weed isn't helping the current state of my panties.

As soon as we get into the car, he surprises me and straddles me. He grabs my wrists and pins them behind my head. His mouth comes inches from mine. "Why did you leave last night without saying goodbye?"

My heart beats faster. The air thickens in my lungs. I attempt to move my hands, but he holds them secure.

"Stop moving, Kora."

I instantly obey him.

His lips twitch. "You've been a bad girl. Haven't you?" He arches an eyebrow.

"What?"

He leans into my ear and flicks his tongue behind it. His lips suck on my lobe. "I don't like it when my lapa disappears. It makes me think about all kinds of things."

"Like what?" I whisper.

His other hand unbuttons my suit jacket and slides under my shirt, stroking the curve of my waist. He doesn't answer my question. "I think you've been working too hard. And while I like you in pink, I prefer you to not wear anything."

My belly flutters, and my lower body squirms, but there isn't much room. His erection presses into me, and his lips come near mine again. He drills his gorgeous brown gaze into mine. "Why didn't you answer me about dinner?"

"I..." I look at his lips.

"Tell me why, lapa."

I swallow hard, trying to remember the reasons I should tell him it's best if we stay away from each other.

Something passes in his eyes. His jaw twitches. "You don't want me to take you out?"

"No—" I clear my throat as his face falls. "I didn't say that."

He just gave me the perfect out, and I fumbled.

I don't want an out.

I'm playing with fire with him.

"Then answer my question, Kora. Do you want to go with me to dinner tonight?"

I blurt out, "I don't know, are you going to leave me in a dark room and ignore me the rest of the night?"

Shit. Why did I just say that?

I turn toward the window. Heat blazes in my cheeks. My insides shake.

Where is my ability to shut my mouth?

He releases my wrists and puts his hands on my cheeks, forcing me to look at him. Surprise fills his eyes. "I hurt you?"

I attempt to look away, but he holds me firmly in place. I can't avoid his eyes but say nothing.

In a stern voice, he orders, "Tell me how I hurt you, lapa."

"You didn't," I lie.

His eyes turn to slits. "Don't ever lie to me, Kora. I won't do it to you, so don't do it to me."

"Sorry."

He kisses me. It's soft and gentle, the opposite of any of his previous kisses. It leaves me wanting more, just like his other ones. When he pulls back, he says, "You're forgiven. Now tell me how I hurt you."

"You made me feel cheap."

His eyes widen. "Because of what we did?"

"No. Because of how you left me and ignored me all night." As I say it, I hate myself for admitting it. It makes me sound like a schoolgirl, desperate for his attention.

"Ah. I see." He takes a deep breath. "I'm an idiot and assumed something. I'm sorry."

"What did you assume?"

The spasm in his jaw intensifies. "The wrong thing."

"What—"

"Are you going to hold it against me or accept my apology, lapa?" Worry laces with his confidence.

"I'll forgive you," I say without even considering whether I should or not.

He rolls off me and tugs me onto his lap, pushing my skirt up, so I'm straddling him. His long fingers lace into my hair, and his other hand glides under my jacket then shirt. He splays his palm on my spine.

Tingles break out in all my nerves. My sex sits on top of his erection, pulsing. I want to unzip his pants, push my panties to the side, and sink on top of it.

He kisses me, rough, hungry, as if I'm a drug he can't get enough of and needs more. Between kisses, he mumbles, "Dinner? Tonight?"

"Mmhmm." I slide my tongue back in his delicious mouth.

The car stops, and Sergey hits the locks. We continue kissing for several minutes then he steps out and escorts me to my door.

"Are you coming in?" I ask when I get inside.

His cocky expression mixes with heat. "No, lapa. If I come inside, I'm not leaving and you'll be my only dinner. I'll be back at seven to pick you up for our date."