ANMELDENChapter 30Jordan POVThe thing about ethics crises is that they never arrive wearing a name tag.They slide in sideways.A leaked clause. A headline. A prosecutor with perfect hair and no shame. Suddenly, the cleanest explanation in the world sounds guilty because someone cut out the middle and left the public holding a sentence with no context.I sat in my office with the leaked residency clause glowing on my laptop screen and felt the rare, unpleasant sensation of wanting to throw something heavy through something expensive.Preferably Silvia Smith’s window.Instead, I adjusted my blazer, took a sip of coffee that had gone cold thirty minutes ago, and reminded myself that assault charges looked tacky on defense counsel.The screenshot had already been posted by two local accounts and one legal gossip page that had the journalistic integrity of a raccoon in a dumpster.Defense Attorney Required to Live on Mercer Property During Murder Case?Cute little question mark at the end.The
Chapter 29Jordan POVBy three in the afternoon, the internet had decided Maddox Mercer was running a cult.Not a criminal enterprise.Not a private security company with terrible public relations and worse timing.A cult.Because apparently when people ran out of legal vocabulary, they sprinted straight to cable-news hysteria and brought snacks.I found the article because Roger texted it to me with no greeting, no context, and one very unhelpful sentence:Don’t throw your phone.Naturally, I opened it immediately.The headline sat at the top of the screen in bold black letters designed to raise blood pressure and lower intelligence.INSIDE THE MERCER HOUSE: SOURCES CLAIM CULT-LIKE CONTROL ON PRIVATE LANDI stared at it for five full seconds.Then I said, to my empty office, “Oh, lovely. We’re doing vocabulary crimes today.”The article was short, sloppy, and dangerous.That was the worst combination.Long articles gave people room to think. Short articles gave them something to repe
Chapter 28Maddox POVThe courthouse doors opened, and every camera turned toward me.I had walked through gunfire quieter than that hallway.Reporters pressed behind the barricades, shouting my name, Jordan’s name, the company’s name. Questions came fast and useless, designed less to collect answers and more to catch a reaction.“Mr. Mercer, did you intimidate witnesses?”“Are you hiding evidence on your property?”“Is Mercer Security a criminal enterprise?”“Ms. Carter, are you romantically involved with your client?”That last one made my wolf slam hard against my control.Not because the question was clever.Because it was directed at her.Jordan didn’t flinch.She walked at my left side with her binder tucked against her ribs, chin lifted, expression clean and professional. She looked like she could cross-examine God and politely object to the weather afterward. Nothing in her face showed what the hearing had cost her.But I could feel it.The bond was no longer quiet.It pulled
Book Two- The Defense of WolvesAct II- Indictment and CoupChapter 27Jordan POVThe courtroom was colder than it needed to be, which is how I knew Silvia Smith expected to win.Not because temperature affects outcomes—if it did, half the bench would be staffed by Florida retirees—but because prosecutors who plan to paint you as dangerous love anything that makes people tuck their hands under their arms and look nervous.Nervous people vote for cages.I stood at counsel table with my binder open, my bail packet stacked neatly beside it, and my face set to calm. Not “I’m fine” calm. “I will bury you with procedure” calm.My body did not match my face.Because Maddox wasn’t in the room yet, and the longer I waited, the more that low, gnawing ache pressed under my sternum. Like my chest was too tight for my lungs. Like something inside me kept reaching out and finding nothing.I told myself it was adrenaline. Stress. Lack of sleep. Coffee. The fact that a prosecutor had filed the word R
Chapter 26Jordan POVThe courthouse at night feels like a mouth that never quite closes.Even after the last hearing ends, even after the last defendant is led away, there’s still motion—clerks filing, deputies rotating, prosecutors pacing like caffeine is a personality trait. The building stays awake because the system doesn’t sleep. It just shifts into a quieter kind of hunger.I sat in my car in the back lot for a full minute with my hands on the steering wheel, not turning the key, not moving, just breathing.Maddox was in a holding cell.Silvia had filed added charges like she was decorating a Christmas tree.And the phrase medical suppression was still sitting in my bones like a bruise.I turned the engine on and drove, not back to Mercer, not yet—back to my office.I needed fluorescent lighting and paper and the familiar smell of toner to remind my brain that I lived in a world where evidence mattered more than whispers.When I got there, the lobby was dark. I hovered my key c
Chapter 25Jordan POVMaddox’s question didn’t sound like a trap.That was what made it dangerous.“Did your father ever mention wolves to you?”For half a second, I forgot I was standing in a library on a property that had cameras in the trees and secrets in the walls. I forgot I was building a surrender plan and a bail package and a compliance narrative. I forgot Silvia Smith was circling like she had a stopwatch in her pocket.All I heard was father.And the way Maddox said it—quiet, precise—like he already knew the answer mattered.My throat tightened.Kane’s eyes flicked from Maddox to me, alert.Rowan stayed near the shelves, arms crossed, face blank. But his body went subtly still, like the room had shifted and he was tracking what might break.I forced air into my lungs and made my voice steady.“No,” I said. “Not directly.”Maddox’s gaze didn’t move. “Not directly,” he repeated, like he was filing the phrase away.“I was a kid,” I added, because I needed him to understand I w
Chapter 15Jordan POVMy case board looked like a conspiracy wall built by a woman who’d lost access to sunshine and normal friendships.Strings, sticky notes, printouts, timelines. The service road turnout circled in red. Kline’s autopsy request highlighted like Silvia would magically produce it f
Chapter 2Jordan POVThe subpoena sat on my passenger seat like it had paid rent.I’d tried shoving it into my briefcase. I’d tried folding it into my folder. I’d even tried the most sophisticated legal strategy of all—turning it face down and pretending it wasn’t real.It was still there.“Your ja
Chapter 70Jordan POVSilvia leaves like she’s done me a favor.The door shuts behind her team, tires crunch the drive, and the house exhales—too loud, too fast, like everyone’s been holding their breath for hours and doesn’t know what to do with oxygen anymore.The common room doesn’t erupt into ch
Chapter 68Maddox POVPre-dawn was the most dangerous time.Not because the sun wasn’t up yet. Because people’s restraint wore thin when they were tired, scared, and full of adrenaline with nowhere to put it.The packhouse was awake in the quiet way—footsteps measured, voices low, doors closing sof







