Filthy Lawyer (The Firm #1) Read Online Whitney G

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, New Adult Tags Authors: Series: The Firm Series by Whitney G
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Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 52699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
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He looked up from his phone, watching me as I neared.

“Hello, Miss Tanner,” he said. “Did you bring the files?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He held out his hand. “Do you plan on giving them to me?”

He was looking at me like I was just another associate, like we’d never had sex…

“Yes, Mr. Carter.” I handed them over, trying to sound as formal as him.

One of the firm’s interns, a brunette named Robin, suddenly stepped in front of us with two cups of coffee.

“Here’s your usual, Mr. Carter,” she said. “I overheard you order a mocha latte yesterday, Miss Tanner, so I hope you won’t mind a repeat.”

“Not at all.” I smiled at her. “Thank you.”

She disappeared again.

“There’s an issue with today’s case,” I said.

“Okay.” He flipped through my notes. “I’m listening.”

“He’s one hundred percent guilty. He covered his tracks pretty well since it took me days to unveil them, but he stole from that company.”

“And?” Damien shrugged. “Skip to the ‘issue’ part, Miss Tanner.”

“I thought you’d want to know, so you can tell him to find another lawyer after today’s hearing.”

“Why would I stop representing him?”

“So you won’t have to deal with him lying under oath.”

“Thank you for my daily dose of morals,” he said. “I’m starting to believe that you don’t understand what it means to be a lawyer.”

“It means fighting for the truth.”

“No, it means fighting for whoever pays you.”

“I must’ve missed that lesson in law school.”

“You’ve missed quite a bit.”

“Harrison James courtroom is now open,” an officer announced.

“Let’s go.” Mr. Carter turned away, and I followed him from a distance.

I wanted to find flaws in his routine, but the man was honestly brilliant.

He knew how to craft a charming argument, how to slip into the mind and convince a listener of anything.

After the judge ruled in his favor, he walked over to me.

“Am I allowed to go back home now?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “We have an emergency client who needs us. You need to ride with me.”

MITIGATING CIRCUMSTANCES (N.)

CONDITIONS OR HAPPENINGS WHICH DO NOT EXCUSE OR JUSTIFY CRIMINAL CONDUCT, BUT ARE CONSIDERED OUT OF MERCY OR FAIRNESS IN DECIDING THE DEGREE OF THE OFFENSE

ELIZABETH

Istared out the window as Damien weaved through traffic.

Sipping the last of my coffee, I felt my phone vibrating in my lap.

I sighed. It was my foster mother.

I’d already missed ten of her calls, and even though we weren’t close, I needed a distraction.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Hey there, Sunshine!” She slurred. “How are you today?”

“I’m fine, and you?”

“Me and your father are taking his new boat for a little spin off Maine’s Coast.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“Oh, it is. I remember when you used to love this as a little girl.”

“Yeah…” I remembered them telling me I could never go. “Me, too.”

“Well, I was just checking to make sure you’re still alive, hun,” she said. “Your father and I are still waiting for you to invite us to come see your work onstage!”

Never. “It’ll just be a little while longer,” I said. “I’m the third understudy for the next production, but my script made it to the finals for Bumbling Under Broadway, so I’ll let you know if anything changes.

Damien looked over at me, raising his eyebrow as he switched lanes.

“You always were more of an artsy type,” she said. “I wish the legal bug had bitten you, like it bit…’” Her voice trailed off like it always did whenever the most painful strain of our lives arose. We didn’t talk about it, didn’t mention it, and I’d learned to keep my post-college career to myself ever since.

“The stage manager will be back soon with notes,” I said, saving her from making an excuse to leave or change the subject. “I gotta go.”

“I understand.”

“We’ll talk later.”

“Of course.”

We held onto the line for several seconds, the words “I love you” within reach, but we didn’t make a move to touch them.

I hung up as Damien pulled in front of a parking meter. He leaned over and opened the center console, pulling out a box and a small camera.

“You need to put these on when we get inside.” He handed me a pair of medical gloves. “The next ten minutes never happened.”

“Are we private investigators or lawyers?”

“Depends on what day of the week it is. You have to do your research, no matter what your client tells you.”

As if he could sense my next question, he looked at me. “And sometimes you need to do the research yourself.”

He exited the car, and I followed him into an apartment building.

He led me up four flights of steps, and then he walked in front of Apartment 14V.

I waited for him to knock, but he put on his gloves and picked the lock in ten seconds flat.

Then he pulled me inside and shut the door.

Oh my god… I sucked in a breath at the sight before us.


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