The office of Vance & Associates was the kind of place that breathed authority. Brianna had called Arthur Vance personally—the city's most powerful prosecutor who owed her father a favor from a decade ago. He had sounded eager on the phone, telling her to come in immediately.
Since she didn't have anyone else to call; she had stayed up all night thinking of what to give Lucian as a peace offering. And she finally found it!
What better than giving him the thing that led to this from the beginning?
A divorce.
Now, she sat across from Arthur and his top litigation partner, a woman known as "The Guillotine" for her ruthless divorce settlements.
According to Arthur, this woman was her trump card!
Brianna stretched forth her hand towards the woman. "It's nice to meet you."
The woman reciprocated, offering a professional admiration. "Of course. Always a pleasure, Doctor."
Arthur looked between two women, smiling as he leaned forward. "No one does it better than Mrs. Callaway. She's handled the biggest names in the country."
Mrs. Callaway gave a curt, arrogant nod. "I simply ensure my clients take what is theirs."
"This one's too polite if I may say," Arthur laughed ironically before clearing his throat, earnestly. "Now, for the record... who is the spouse in question?"
"Lucian Colburn."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
The Guillotine froze, her pen hovering over her legal pad. Arthur's smile was replaced with creased brows. He dropped his glasses onto the desk with a loud clack.
Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, his face turned into a sickly shade of grey. "Lucian Colburn? As in... P-president Lucian?"
A chill began to creep up Brianna's spine. "Is there... Is there another one?"
The prosecutor and attorney looked at each other. There was no professional mask anymore—only raw, unadulterated fear. The woman slowly closed her notebook, her hands shaking so slightly it was almost invisible.
Arthur's voice dropped to a polite, terrified hush. "Brianna," He stood up, not to shake her hand, but to usher her toward the door. "Out of respect for your father, I'm going to pretend you never walked in here today."
"Arthur? W-what are you talking about?"
"I am not going to be involved in anything that has to do with President Lucian," his voice trembled as he opened the office door for her. "No firm in this city will touch this. If you're smart, you'll go to him and beg for his approval, because the law won't help you against a man like him. Have a good day."
Before she could utter another word, the door was shut firmly in her face.
Brianna looked at the door Arthur slammed. What did he mean by "the law won't help you"? Wasn't that why the law exists?
Narrowing her eyes, Brianna wiped the sweat forming on her forehead as she thought of what to do.
The family lawyers only reported to their Lord and personal savior. Honestly? Vance was her only option... Since Rochelle hadn't called back about that divorce attorney she knows.
Speaking of the devil, Rochelle's caller ID flashed, pulling Brianna out of her thoughts. She slid to answer, but recoiled as Rochelle's frantic voice hit her before she even reached her ear.
"So? How did it go?"
"It went terribly."
Brianna nodded to a group of young lawyers, swerving past her.
"What exactly did he say?"
"He said the law won't help me."
"And he's supposed to be the best?"
Brianna sighed, pushing through the revolving doors of the firm. She inhaled the fresh metallic bite of the coming autumn hitting her porcelain skin.
"I don't even know what Lucian did to these people."
Sliding into the driver's seat of her white Maserati, Brianna leaned her head against the steering wheel, the phone still pressed to her ear.
"Tell me you have good news, Rochelle," she murmured tiredly. "I could use a break right now."
Rochelle's tone shifted to something hopeful. "Well, the attorney I found is not from this city. He just moved here with his family, so he doesn't know the name 'President Lucian' from any other man in a suit. I'll bring him to you this afternoon. Meet me at your favorite favorite café?"
Brianna closed her eyes, letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Someone who didn't know Lucian was someone who wasn't already infected by the fear. It was exactly what she needed.
"Of course. Call me when you get there."
...
Brianna sat in the plush velvet booth of The Gilded Leaf, her eyes scanning the entrance of the café opposite for any sign of Rochelle and the "fearless" attorney.
Since there was no Rosa, she decided to eat at this restaurant. Though she had already finished her meal—a simple salad that now felt heavy in her stomach.
When the waiter approached with the bill, she handed over her black card without looking up.
Beep.
"I'm sorry, Ma'am. Declined."