The Lions Den

Chapter One: When the Gazelle Notices the Lion

Kashera Daniels

Not entirely too long ago my mother once told me the story of Little Red Riding Hood. I loved the story until I got old enough to question it. I was curious, dismayed to say the least, about how Little Red didn't recognize that the wolf was not the innocent gazelle her poor grandmother would've been. I didn't get how she didn't see the monster that lurked behind a poor costume.

I wished I could go back to my curious self and tell her that sometimes monsters are a lot more beautiful than we'd like to give them credit for. Sometimes the perception of beauty makes It hard for us to make the distinction between the monster and the person whose supposed to be inside the get-up. Unfortunately for us both, me now and me as a little girl tucked away under her covers as her mother read dotingly on the edge of the bed, I'd only learned this mere minutes ago.

Matteo Leone was a walking piece of art. He was without a doubt beautifully sculpted by God himself to be admired by all, but just like Lucifer he'd long fallen from the graces of Heaven. He'd instead opted to bring about the rise of a beautifully damned hell. He was crafted like he was God's favorite creation, but the man that he was, was a total one-eighty from that of anything relatively Godly. The way his eyes twinkled as he so effortlessly confessed to me that I'd be defending him from murder was sinister to say the least. However, it wasn't because of the admission and the delight in his eyes at my discomfort. It was because of his ability to look me in the eyes and completely rattle me in the most pleasing way. It was there from the moment he stood before me: the twisted pull that was between us, and I knew it was flat out wrong.

I sat in my office with the files from his case spread out before me. All the while, my mind was still buzzing entirely too much for me to have so much as a lick of focus on anything. I couldn't even put it into words how and or why I was this frazzled. The moment I pulled away from him he chuckled as if he'd gotten a kick out of finally being able to rattle my calm and composed demeanor. Yet, that confession, with the way he said it with so much passive ease, would've shaken anyone. Especially someone who'd never defended a murderer. Defended people on fraud, embezzlement, corruption, drug charges of the highest caliber in the state- yes- but never murder.

However, as we played out the newly found game of predator and prey, I was learning fast on how to see him. He thought he had a good read on me, but what was interesting was that I think that I was the one to have the best read on him. He wanted to seem tough like he'd done it, but the way he carried himself told me otherwise. A man like him, from his family, would've walked in there and admitted that he did the murder without hesitation (if all the rumors about the Leone Family were indeed true).

The only thing that he did was tell me what the charges were, demand all the files on the case be given to me, and then had the gall to dismiss me. Don't even bother to ask if I have so much as half a clue as to how to get in contact with the man in the event that I needed to. Yet, that was here nor there, the main thing is that he did everything except to admit to committing the monstrous act he was being accused of, and that meant everything. I sighed as I scanned over the papers. I pressed the call button on my phoned Brook over to me and she came hastily into the room surely curious as to what happened in the meeting that resulted in my being locked up in this room for the better part of the morning.