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Authors: Tasha Jones,Interracial Love
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Defending My Mobster
By Tasha Jones
Copyright © 2015 Tasha Jones
. All rights reserved. Including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the author.
WARNING: This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language. It may be considered offensive to some readers. This book is for sale to adults ONLY.
Please ensure this book is stored somewhere that cannot be accessed by underage readers.
Dedicated
To My Loving And Faithful Readers. Bless.
Table Of Contents
Chapter 1 - Nia
Rubbing my temples with both my palms, I groaned softly as the words on the page began to blend together. For the past three days I’d been preparing for Angel Romano’s trial, and it was exhausting. Angel was a tall, dark haired alpha, with auburn brown eyes and built like he played football. When I took he's case I knew I could win it, even after he had told me other attorney's were doing him no justice.
The prosecution was pulling smoke out of their backsides, and that alone was very infuriating. I figured they were gambling on people’s dislike for the mob, or something like that because they literally had nothing conclusive, but were still taking their chances with a trial. It was huge risk for them, but I guess they had no choice. Thinking about it, I decided I would not want their jobs. They did not get to pick their clients. It wasn’t hard though, getting the Italian mobster to speak up, and I found everything he said credible on some level.
“Nia, I think you should go home and sleep in your bed for once. You can’t go to court on Thursday looking like that. You’re ahead on your cases, so go home and take a long, hard nap,” I heard Mark say. Glancing up, I saw Mark as he leaned on the doorway. I felt my frown smoothen out. He was right, I’d been sleeping at work and hadn’t gone home in almost a week if I didn’t count the quick showers. It was a record, even for me.
I needed to take his advice and slow down a little.
“Yeah, I’ll go. Just give me a minute,” I told him.
“Just a minute, right,” he responded, unbelieving. Rightly so as it turns out.
An hour and a half later, I was walking out of the office feeling absolutely beat down. Angel’s case had gone to court twice now, and they’d been disrupted and continued twice. I needed to finish this or it was going to kill me, literally or figuratively, either may be possible at this point.
“I’m so tired,” I said to myself. Trudging to my little baby blue Volkswagen made me feel a bit better. It perked me up as the office coffee hadn't. I think it was because going to my car meant going home. Going home meant not at work and that meant possibly sleeping.
“Hey! Nia Jefferson, right?” a voice said. It was late, nearly 2 am and no one should have been there. The call, though, made me turn around. It had a distinct Italian accent I’d heard much too much lately. From the light of a nearby street lamp, I could see the exact same tattoo on the back of the man’s hand. From a distance, it looked like Angel, but his voice was too deep and not as thickly accented. Not Angel but someone familiar.
“Can I help you?” I asked. Posing my question, I was glad my voice didn’t shake as my tiredness vanished to be replaced by weariness. The man entered the light of the lamp in the middle of the parking lot, and I frowned slightly. He just looked really familiar and it was beginning to bother me. Being bothered at two in the morning on my way home was not a good time for anyone to approach me.
“I was just wondering how my cousin’s case is coming?” the man said. At that, my frown only deepened. It was no secret I couldn’t discuss the case with anyone outside the prosecuting lawyers and my client. This clown should know that.
“I can’t discuss that with you,” I said. This man had obviously been waiting for me, and it was disturbing. If he was Angel’s cousin, why didn’t he just ask him? It was freaking me out that he’d stayed out all of this time just to ask a question he knew the answer to. There had to be something else going on.
“That must mean you got him off the hook for killing that senator, huh?” was his question. Unable to stop my frown from turning into a slight scowl, I didn’t need this right now. I was tired, hungry, and needed a warm bed, not a stiff couch and a line of questioning; my annoyance level was rising fast. Crossing my arms over my chest, I examined the man in front of me. Angel was truly his cousin, they looked so much alike, and I could see tattoos rolling up his arms in sleeves that were laid bare by his wife beater shirt.
“No,” I said blankly. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but this man’s creepy smile wasn’t it. It only made me more nervous, since the time of night wasn’t exactly ideal for pleasant conversation. Despite the murderous scenarios that were running in my head, though, the man simply walked away. There was no farewell, but his smile stuck to my mind’s eye and I shivered a little. His smile spoke volumes and none of it good. It made me nervous.
It wasn’t a good omen.
I made it home and immediately gobbled down some leftovers that did not smell too bad and a glass of wine. I briefly considered taking a shower but decided I was too damn tried. I would do it in the morning. So I stripped and climbed into my bed, stretching and sighing with the greatest relief I could muster, being so tired. It could not have been more than a minute and I was out like a light. I dreamed but all I could remember was a sneering grin, like the Cheshire Cat.
Groaning, I rolled over in my bed and tried to sleep, even if it was only for a few more minutes. It’d been a long time since I had been in my bed, and it was more comfortable than I remembered. That fact was kind of disturbing, then again so much of my job was, but I ignored it for the time being.
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Once I managed to get myself out of my heavenly silk sheets, I took a shower, got dressed and made myself presentable. According to my cell phone, I had slept through an entire day and had court at 11 am. Just thinking about it made me frown, though. I knew I could get Angel’s charges dropped like a fly and I knew the prosecutor that would be going against me. I’d done enough research to earn me overtime for the next six months, if there was such a thing for an attorney. He was good, but his win to loss ratio was almost even. Since I only took cases I knew I had a fair chance of winning, the odds were in my favor.
“Case, I don’t have time for this right now, I have to be in court in half an hour,” I told my sister. Scowling into my phone as I held it between my ear and my shoulders, I walked out of my apartment and locked the door behind me.
“Please, Nia, you work too damn much. When was the last time you came home and hung out with me?” Sighing, I ran my hand through my hair and shoved my thumb into the elevator button. If it was not one thing it was another. My sister needed to realize that I had a life, and I wanted it to be successful. To do that I needed to work, it would not happen by itself. Then again working for a living was something she was not too familiar with. Which was another problem I had with her.
“Listen, I promise I’ll come by after everything slows down. Just because you were laid off doesn’t mean I have to stop my life to come hang out with you. I don’t want to sound mean, but the economy is doing fine and you can’t live on Mom’s checks forever. Now, I’m not saying that she doesn’t appreciate you being around to do everything so she doesn’t have to, but honestly, you’re 26 and Mom’s not going to take your freeloading for much longer.”
Case and I had a rocky relationship at best, she was completely lazy, a freeloader, and whatever she didn’t responsibly spend from our mother’s check she spent on silly things that broke on the first day or ended up lost within the week. But we were still sisters, and shared the same lightly bronzed, caramel skin, jet black hair along with dark eyes and an accentuated curvy frame.
But I couldn't help it that she still acted like a child. We clashed constantly and it was the main reason I hadn’t gone to see her lately. Despite the fact that I had been working, I could have squeezed the time in. Before she could defend herself, though, I hung up on the way down to the ground floor. My sister needed a harsh dose of reality because when mom isn't around anymore, she’ll be on her own. I didn’t make a habit of charity, no matter how good it looked on my resume.
Walking into the court room, I was pleased beyond measure that Angel was already sitting down at the table to the right. He’d always been early to our meetings, he’d never blown his top over something I’d said, and he was, all in all, the most pleasant client I had to work with. When you are a defense attorney, having a pleasant client is a rare thing, to be celebrated. So I smiled at him. He returned it.
“Morning, Nia,” he said as he stood up to shake my hand. Angel had a twinkle in his eye and a ghost of a smile on his lips. I wasn’t sure why, but it picked up my mood considerably as I returned the gestures. He did always manage to pick me up that way, not sure what it was.