Chapter 3 - The Card on the Glass|
I felt the blood drain from my face. Ronin noticed. Of course he noticed. He noticed every micro-expression.
"I don't know what you mean," I whispered.
"Yes, you do." His voice stayed quiet, smooth as velvet, cold as ice. "And I think you know that I already know the answer."
I should have denied it again. I should have laughed and told him Preston was a respected assistant district attorney, that everybody liked him, that men who sent yellow roses to your desk didn't become monsters behind closed doors. But the words died in my throat.
Ronin's jaw tightened once. That was his only tell.
He reached for the black phone on the glass table, pressed a single speed-dial button, and spoke. "Gideon, clear my schedule until noon."
He ended the call before Gideon could even acknowledge the command.
"Ronin, please," I choked out, feeling tears prick the backs of my eyes.
He looked at me with an unwavering gaze. "I'm not going to ask you what happened in front of anyone else. I'm not going to touch you. And I'm not going to make a decision for you."
My fingers loosened around the folder, just slightly.
May you like
He slid a small, heavy white card across the glass table toward me. Three phone numbers were printed on it in simple black ink. A top-tier defense lawyer. A private physician. And an address to a gated estate in the hills that I didn't recognize.
"Use none of them if you do not want to," Ronin said gently. "Or use all three. But you will not walk back into that apartment tonight alone."
