Present

“Have you heard who’s gotten picked for this year?” Judge Montagnet sipped his bourbon, his black robe open as he lounged in his chambers.

I pulled on my sleeves, ensuring that my cuff links were perfectly turned.

“No, Judge, I sure haven’t. Should be an interesting year with Cal in charge.” I smiled. It was mechanical. Sometimes I would have to actively think about how a normal person would react to a statement or an action, and then attempt to mold my response in the same fashion.

“I really can’t wait. Christmas trial is always my favorite. Did you attend during the year Cal won?” He shifted his hips higher, the law clerk between his legs making sloppy noises as he bobbed his head on the judge’s cock.

“No, I’m afraid to say the sugar business called me away to foreign lands quite a bit that year.” I finished my bourbon and set the glass on the polished wood table to my right.

Judge Montagnet closed his eyes and gripped the young man’s head, pulling him close. After a series of choking noises and some low grunts from the judge, it was over. The law clerk sat back, sputtering and gasping for air. He wiped his sleeve across his eyes, and it came away wet with tears.

No pity for him welled in my deadened heart. I had no concept of what that word even meant. Was it a feeling? A thought? I was better off without it, not that I had a choice in the matter. I couldn’t miss something I’d never experienced in the first place.

Boredom swirled around me, and I wanted to get the hearing over with as soon as possible. As the district attorney for the parish, I had to prosecute all criminal offenses while Judge Montagnet made a show of presiding over the trials. The job only became fun when I found a really nasty rat and made him squeal.

Luckily, I’d found just such a rat in Leon Rousseau. His arraignment was set on the docket, and I had big plans to investigate every scrap of paper and every dime flowing to and from his accounts. Making his life a living hell would amuse me for a time, at least until I found something better.

Judge Montagnet zipped up and patted the law clerk on the head. “Good work. Run along now and let them know I’ll be on the bench in a moment.”

The clerk stood, crimson painting his cheeks, and left.

“I guess that’s my cue.” I rose as the judge straightened his robes and smoothed his white hair.

“I’ll see you out there. Anyone you want me to roast today?”

I smirked. “I think I can handle the roasting at the moment. You’ve had all the fun so far. Now it’s my turn.”

He smiled, his wrinkles turning his thin skin into accordions around his mouth. “I sure have.”

I fastened my top coat button and strode out into the courtroom. The bailiff nodded at me as I skirted the bench and headed toward the counsel tables. The public defender had already set up his files on his side. My side was bare. I knew my cases; no files necessary.

I scanned the gallery behind the short wooden wall separating the front and back of the courtroom. Leon Rousseau sat and stared at me with his beady eyes. But he wasn’t what caught my attention. I didn’t break my step, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the redhead sitting beside him.

Her head was bowed, and she wore a black suit, the skirt too long for my tastes and the cut too modest. So prim and proper. I wanted to toy with her, bat her around like a cat playing with a mortally wounded mouse.

I’d never been drawn to another human being. The sensation was odd, irritating. Even so, her red hair would look perfect clenched in my fist, and I had to take a sharp breath at the thought of her skin bearing marks from my belt.

I walked the remaining steps to my table, but she didn’t look up. The flame of desire began to burn lower when I realized she was too tame. I would break her in an instant, and I didn’t want to play with broken toys. Pity.

She looked up at me. Her green eyes pinned me to the spot, and my heart kicked against my ribs. She was more. So much more. Her hateful gaze scorched me like a firebrand, and I wanted the burn. I wanted to give it back to her, make her scream and call my name—in agony or pleasure, or that perfect mix of both. She held me there, as if the hate in her eyes had snared me in a trap.

“Counsellor Vinemont?” Judge Montagnet’s voice echoed around the wood-paneled walls. “Which case would you like to handle first?”

I cut my eyes from her to Leon Rousseau and back again. He gripped her hand with his. A name flitted around my mind. A daughter, he had a daughter. Stella. I smirked as her name came to me, and she kicked her chin up a notch in response.

Still meeting her gaze, I called, “Judge, I’d like to take Leon Rousseau’s case first, if that’s all right with you.”

When her eyes fell, the beast who lived in my hollow heart roared. She was fire, but she could be contained. Dominated. By me. And I already felt the need to do it again.