Page 10 of Shiver

“About that…” He trails off.

I roll my eyes.He needs something.“Spit it out, pretty boy. I have court in three minutes.”

He huffs out a nervous laugh. “I’ve got a friend living in Philly who needs a child custody lawyer. I gave him your number and just wanted to give you a heads-up.”

“You sound nervous about that. What are you not telling me?” I question, knowing this isn’t a man who gets nervous,ever.It would sort of dull the effect he has in the courtroom as a criminal defense attorney.

He blows out a heavy breath that’s audible even over the line, and I feel a fluttering in my gut as I wait for whatever it is he’s about to say to make my life more complicated. “Yeah, he’s known as a bit of a player, but I swear, he’s not like that. Just give him a chance; you’ll see. He’s in a real messed-up situation, and you’re the most capable attorney I know,” he finishes.

“Ah, there he is. Mr. Congeniality trying to butter me up with praise,” I quip, the smile returning to my face.

“Is it working?” he asks, hopeful.

I laugh. “Of course it is. Send me his details so I don’t mark his number as spam. I’ll see what I can do.”

He lets out a breath he must’ve been holding while awaiting my answer. “Appreciate you, Mara. You a real one.”

“Don’t I know it? Have a good day, Rome. We’ll link up soon. Give Audrey a good smack on the ass for me,” I tell him.

“Will do, but can’t say it’ll be from you.” He laughs. “Good luck in court. Talk later.”

I end the call, shoving my phone back in my bag and hauling ass into that courtroom.

***

I kick my feet up on the couch, turning the TV on for some ambient noise before doing a deep dive into Luca De Laurentiis.

If I’m going to represent him, I need to know everything that could be dredged up and used against him. Which means ensuring I find the things he might not be willing to tell me himself.

As I type in his name, the search populates with hundreds of articles. “Shit.” I groan, sinking farther into the couch cushions.This is going to be a long-ass night, but at least I’ve got wine.

I take a sip of my pinot, a tingly sensation slithering down my throat as I swallow before diving into these articles. Alcohol makes me bloat even more than usual, but I like to enjoy a glass of wine here and there. I have no desire to live my life based solely on the whims of my hormones.

I can already feel my limbs getting heavier, and my ankles are swelling. I set my phone down for a moment to massage my tired feet before taking a closer look. The vast majority of the articles I find surround my new client’s sexual prowess, and while it’s inconvenient to have to represent someone with such an open sex life, especially in child custody cases, it isn’t a make or break. I continue scrolling, truly shocked by the time I’m an hour in, and I’ve seen photos of this man leaving bars and clubs seemingly every night of the week with a new woman.

I’ve seen a lot over my career, and while it doesn’t stun me that these articles exist, it is a little startling to see just how many women have fallen for whatever lies he tells them to get them to sleep with him. Though I suppose there’s always the possibility that they know his intentions and simply don’t care.Or that he’s got a golden dick, who knows?I guess I might not either if I was looking for a night of fun and had the opportunity with a man who looked likethat.

I slip farther into the cushions, continuing to scroll until I land on a smattering of several articles from a few years ago, referencing his older brother’s diagnosis of multiple sclerosis.

I skim through the articles briefly but realize pretty quickly they have little to do with my new client, so I move on.

Another hour passes, and my eyes are starting to feel heavy until they land on something that jolts me out of my sleepiness.

Nearly a decade ago, Luca De Laurentiis was photographed bringing his girlfriend to a non-profit clinic that provides reproductive services. A reporter did some digging, as this was his first year playing in the NHL, and found that he had transferred a large sum of money to her, presumably paying her to have an abortion and to keep quiet.

My stomach begins to churn with unease.I don’t like where this is going.

Luca never denied the claims, and it was discovered that the two had broken up the next day, but the identity of the woman in the photo had been concealed.

Based on how well he’s keeping her face covered as he hides her under his sweatshirt, the reporters likely couldn’t figure out who the hell she was. It’s highly improbable that they’d have had the decency to protect her identity had they actually known.

That’s good news for his case, but it doesn’t stop the way my blood boils at the thought.He paid a young woman to abort her child so he wouldn’t tarnish his little hockey career?

“How privileged of him,” I scoff to myself.

If it were Luca himself who’d asked me to take his case, I’d fire him as my client. He doesn’t deserve that child.

But it isn’t, I remind myself. It’s Rome who asked me, and for that reason alone, I’ll do my best to keep the anger brewing inside me from bubbling to the surface.

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