𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝟏𝟔

I sat in my office, the usual sharp lines of my pristine surroundings grounding me, but my mind kept wandering. The leather-bound books on the shelves, the smooth glass desk, and the subtle hum of the city beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows all faded into the background as I thought about Sadira Kingston.

Her case, sure, but more than that—the woman herself. She was bold, feisty, the kind of client who didn't back down easily. It was something I respected. Hell, it was something I liked.

I glanced at my watch, knowing she'd be walking through that door soon enough. The tension had been simmering between us since the first time we met, and I couldn't deny that I found it...intriguing.

The door creaked open, pulling me from my thoughts. Saxe stepped in first, his iPad in hand, his typical "all business" expression on his face. And then she followed.

Sadira.

Her hot pink hair was pinned up in a neat bun, a lace front that showed off the sharp lines of her face. She had that effortless kind of confidence like she could command a room without saying a word.

Her outfit was casual but made a statement: a Palm Angels classic logo tee that draped over her in just the right way, paired with Kusbi high-waisted jet-black jeans that hugged every curve perfectly. Her Rick Owens DRKSHDW sneakers were a bold choice, but one that worked for her, and when she walked, I caught the faint scent of peach perfume that seemed to hang in the air long after she moved.

As she strode into the office, her skin glowed under the light, and I couldn't help but notice the gleam of her Saint Laurent leather logo plaque bracelet—silver, understated, but somehow bold, just like her. She didn't make eye contact right away, instead placing her Louis Vuitton OnTheGo monogram empreinte black purse on the chair next to her. She crossed her legs, her demeanor all business, but that didn't stop the fire in her eyes from shining through.

"I knew you'd be back," I said with a smirk, leaning back in my chair. "How are you?"

She rolled her eyes at me, which made me smile even more. The way she challenged me, even with something as simple as an eye roll, only heightened my interest. It wasn't often clients gave me that kind of energy. Most were too eager to please, too afraid of what I might say or do. But not Sadira.

"You know, that attitude you have? I love it," I said, my tone dipping just enough to make sure she knew I wasn't talking about just the case. "Let's keep it going."

She looked off to the side, annoyed. But even that was...attractive. The way her frustration showed on her face, the way she tried to brush me off. Saxe stood by the door, watching the interaction with his usual stoic professionalism, his fingers tapping lightly on the iPad in his hand.

I leaned forward slightly, my gaze never leaving hers. "Can I have your number?" I asked, half-serious, half-teasing.

Sadira didn't even flinch. "You have my bakery number," she shot back, her voice sharp.

I chuckled, more intrigued than ever. She was so over it, and I could tell. But that only made me push further. "I don't think it's appropriate for you to have my personal number, lawyer," she added, almost spitting the word "lawyer" like it was some kind of insult.

She reached into her bag, pulling out the papers I'd given her, the fine print highlighted in yellow, clearly showing that she'd gone through every detail.

She had her questions, and I could see it in the way she gripped those papers—she wasn't going to let me off easy. Her determination, her bratty attitude, it all made her...well, let's just say it made the case more enjoyable than usual.

"Look," she said, her tone biting, "whatever will help save my business and keep me out of whatever hidden shit is going on, I don't care. I just want to walk away with MY bakery as it stays in MY name."

Her voice was firm, and the way she said "my" made it clear this was personal. She wasn't just another client trying to save face. This was her livelihood, and she wasn't going to lose it. I respected that.

Sadira stood up, her movements quick, deliberate. She reached into her purse and pulled out a stack of cash—50K in crispy hundred-dollar bills, wrapped in a band that showed she didn't trust anyone enough to give them a check.

That, I found sexy. The way she handled herself, the way she made it clear she was in control, even when she wasn't.

"Just do what you normally do and win," she said, dropping the money onto my desk with a finality that sent a shiver of satisfaction down my spine. She picked up her purse and turned on her heel, not giving me a second glance.

Saxe, ever the dutiful assistant, opened the door for her, his eyes briefly meeting mine as she walked out.

"Thank you," she tossed over her shoulder, her voice still clipped, still dripping with attitude.

I watched her walk down the hallway, her heels clicking against the marble floors, her back straight, shoulders squared. That fire in her...I wasn't going to let it burn out. No, this was only the beginning.

When the door closed, I leaned back in my chair, fingers steepled under my chin. I hadn't expected her to come in guns blazing like that. I liked it more than I should've.

Saxe stood there, watching me, waiting for the next move. "You think she's a problem?" he asked.

I smirked, my eyes still on the door she'd just walked through. "Nah. She's a challenge. And I love a challenge."

Saxe shook his head and walked out, leaving me alone with my thoughts. This case had just gotten a hell of a lot more interesting. Sadira Kingston wasn't just a client anymore. No, she was a puzzle. One I was going to enjoy solving.