Sarah Walsh smoothed down her charcoal pencil skirt and allowed herself a rare smile as she pushed through the heavy courtroom doors. Behind her, the Castillo family lawyer was still shouting at the judge.
"Your Honor, this is an outrage! My client—" "Your client," Sarah cut in, turning with perfect timing, "is going to prison for fifteen years. Appeal all you want." She didn't wait for his response. The click of her heels on the marble floor echoed as cameras flashed around her. The biggest RICO case of her career, wrapped up with a bow. Vincent Castillo, New York's most dangerous crime boss, was going away for a long time. "Ms. Walsh! How does it feel to take down the Castillo family?" A reporter shoved a microphone toward her face. "Justice was served today," Sarah said with practiced calm. "No one is above the law." Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Her boss. She stepped away from the media circus and answered. "Sarah, you magnificent warrior! Get your ass to McClellan's Bar. The whole firm is waiting to drink to your victory." Two hours later, Sarah was nursing her second vodka tonic at the upscale bar, surrounded by colleagues who'd become progressively louder with each round of drinks. The managing partner had already made a speech about her brilliance and dedication. "To bringing down the bad guys!" someone toasted, and they all clinked glasses. Sarah nodded and smiled, but her mind was already reviewing the loose ends. The Castillos were dangerous, even with Vincent behind bars. Especially his younger brother, Diego, who had mysteriously vanished right before the trial began. "Earth to Sarah!" Her assistant, Megan, was waving a hand in front of her face. "We're taking a vote. You need a vacation after this win." "I need to prepare for the Donovan case," Sarah corrected. Her colleague Tom laughed. "Even robots need to recharge. When's the last time you had fun?" "I have fun," Sarah protested weakly. "Name one thing you did last month that wasn't work-related," Megan challenged. Sarah opened her mouth, then closed it. "That's what I thought," Megan said triumphantly. "We're thinking Vegas. Just the weekend." "Vegas?" Sarah scoffed. "I don't gamble." "It's not about gambling. It's about cutting loose for once in your life." The table erupted with encouragement. "You just put away the most dangerous man in New York!" "If anyone deserves a weekend of sin, it's you!" "Show us you're human, Walsh!" Sarah looked at their expectant faces. She was tired. Bone-tired after eighteen-hour days for months. The kind of tired that made her shoulders ache and her brain fuzzy around the edges. "Fine," she said finally. "One weekend." The table erupted in cheers. Tom was already booking her flight on his phone while Megan detailed the hotel they'd chosen. Sarah tried to listen, but her mind drifted back to the case. Later that night, in her sterile apartment overlooking the city, Sarah kicked off her heels and poured herself a nightcap. Her suitcase for Vegas lay open on her bed, half-packed by Megan before she'd left the bar. Sarah picked up the Castillo case file she'd brought home. She knew she should put it in storage, but something kept nagging at her. She flipped through the photos until she found the one she was looking for. Diego Castillo. Thirty-two years old. Harvard Business School graduate. The legitimate face of the family's empire. In the surveillance photo, he was exiting a restaurant, his tailored suit accentuating broad shoulders. Unlike his brother's crude mugshot, Diego looked refined, dangerous in a different way. His expression was guarded, calculating. Dark eyes that seemed to look right through the camera. Sarah took a long sip of vodka. Diego had disappeared two days before his brother's trial, despite not being charged himself. The FBI suspected he was hiding in South America. She tucked the file away and finished packing, tossing in a swimsuit she hadn't worn in years and a dress Megan insisted she bring. "You'll thank me," her assistant had said with a wink. The next afternoon, Sarah's plane touched down in Las Vegas. The blast of desert heat hit her as she exited the terminal, along with the sensory overload of lights, sounds, and the distinct feeling that normal rules didn't apply here. Her hotel suite was ridiculous—clearly her colleagues had splurged. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the Vegas strip glittering below, and a bottle of champagne waited in an ice bucket with a note: "For once in your life, don't think. Just live. —The Firm" Sarah showered and changed, surprised at how the simple act of being in a new place had already shifted something inside her. She felt lighter, anonymous. Nobody here knew she was the ruthless prosecutor who'd just taken down Vincent Castillo. She studied her reflection in the mirror. She'd chosen a simple black dress that hugged her curves—curves usually hidden under boxy suit jackets. Her auburn hair fell in waves past her shoulders instead of its usual tight bun. For one weekend, she could be someone else. Someone who didn't carry the weight of justice on her shoulders. As the elevator descended to the casino level, Sarah made a decision. She would leave the lawyer behind. Just for two days. She settled at the hotel bar, ordering another vodka tonic, watching the chaos of the casino floor with detached amusement. The bartender slid her drink across the polished surface with a wink. "First time in Vegas?" Sarah nodded, taking a sip. "Word of advice," the bartender leaned in, "what happens in Vegas—" "Stays in Vegas," Sarah finished with a small smile. "So I've heard." The bartender moved away to serve another customer, and Sarah felt someone slide onto the stool beside her. A prickle ran up her spine—the feeling of being watched. She turned slowly, her vodka halfway to her lips, and found herself staring into dark, familiar eyes that stopped her cold. Diego Castillo was supposed to be in South America. Not sitting next to her at a bar in Las Vegas, looking at her like he knew exactly who she was.
