LOST

ERICA

ERICA

The morning sun poured through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of my high-rise office, casting a bright, polished glow across my mahogany desk. I was sitting in my leather armchair, nursing a cup of black coffee, trying desperately to focus on a stack of corporate contracts. But my mind kept wandering back to the penthouse, to my mother, to Leo and Lucas playing on the carpet, and to the bitter realization that Andrew’s shadow hung over every single corner of our lives.

I set my mug down and pinched the bridge of my nose, sighing heavily.

Before I could even pick up my pen, the heavy oak door of my private office swung open without a knock.

My breath hitched instantly.

Andrew walked in.

He was looking more handsome than ever. He wore a sharp, custom charcoal suit that clung perfectly to his broad shoulders and narrow waist. His dark hair was neatly styled, his jawline clean-cut and lethal, and those deep, intense eyes locked onto mine the moment he stepped across the threshold.

The moment he entered, his cologne took over the room, a rich, intoxicating mix of expensive sandalwood, dark whiskey, and pure power. The scent hit my senses like a physical wave, wrapping around me, instantly taking over my strength and making me weak at the knees. My pulse spiked wildly, my heart hammering so hard against my ribs I was terrified he could hear it from where he stood.

He stopped right in front of my desk, leaning forward slightly, resting his large, manicured hands on the dark wood.

"You have not replied to the firm," he said, his voice a deep, smooth baritone that sent a tremor straight down my spine. "You haven't confirmed if you are handling the case."

I gave no response.

Words completely failed me. My eyes were glued to his face, entirely captured by his presence. My gaze drifted down from his cold, sharp eyes to his lips. Those soft, sculpted lips I had kissed six years ago, the lips that had pressed against my skin, making me feel like the only woman in the universe. A sudden, traitorous wave of raw heat flared in my lower stomach, making me ache for him in a way I hadn't felt in six long years.

Standing there looking at him, my mind spun out of control. I wanted him. My body craved him with a desperate, overwhelming hunger. I would love to kiss those lips all over again. I wanted to lay my head on his broad, solid shoulder again, feeling the steady beat of his heart under my cheek. And God help me, I wanted his huge, heavy dick inside my vagina all over again, filling me up until I screamed his name in the dark just like I used to.

My breath grew shallow, my cheeks flushing hot as my body betrayed every shred of pride I possessed.

And then, like a bucket of ice water poured over my head, the memory hit me.

The bedroom door. The afternoon sun. Jessica and Annabel naked on his king-sized bed. The explicit, raunchy threesome. The sight of his hands on their hips, his lips on their skin, playing with them the exact same way he had played with me.

The image burned into my mind, sharp and horrifying. The heat in my blood turned into a cold, sickening coil of disgust. The sin was unpardonable. He had shared his body with the two poisonous snakes who had treated me like dirt, laughing behind my back while I walked away broken.

"I asked a question," his voice rasped, cutting through the thick silence, "but you just keep staring at me."

His voice brought me crashing back from wonderland.

Panic flared in my chest. I realized I had been sitting there with my mouth slightly open, looking at him with undisguised lust for almost a full minute. Embarrassment washed over me, hot and stinging. I needed to cover it up, I needed to say something, anything, to hide the shame of staring at him like a desperate, needy fool.

"Yes," I blurted out, my voice sounding strained and breathless. "I will handle the case."

To quickly cover up my shame and prove that I was strictly professional, I immediately reached for the intercom on my desk, pressed the button, and dialed my chief executive secretary.

"Karen," I said sharply into the speaker, trying to sound authoritative and composed. "Draft an official press release immediately. Announce and publish publicly across all legal media channels that I will be personally acting as chief defense counsel to help Lord Andrew secure his property portfolio."

Andrew didn't blink. He didn't smile. He didn't say thanks for agreeing to defend his sons' multi-billion-dollar inheritance. He didn't mention the kids. He didn't ask, Erica, how are you? He didn't acknowledge the six years of silence, or the tears I had cried, or the fact that my heart was currently bleeding in front of him.

He simply stood up straight, buttoned his suit jacket, and extended a cold, professional hand across the desk.

"I expect the protective injunctions filed by Friday," he said coldly.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and shook his hand. His grip was warm, firm, and fleeting. He withdrew his hand, turned on his heel, and walked out of my office without a second glance, the door clicking shut behind him.

I sank backward into my executive chair, burying my face in my hands. A quiet, pathetic sob escaped my lips.

I hated myself. I hated myself for losing control, for letting my body react to him, for letting him see even a tiny glimpse of the effect he still had on me. Because clearly, he didn't care about me. To him, I was just a brilliant lawyer he had cleverly trapped into defending his estate. There was no warmth in his eyes, no affection in his voice, just cold, calculating business.

While I was sitting there, drowning in self-loathing and fighting back tears, my desk phone began to ring loudly.

I wiped my eyes quickly, took a deep breath, and picked up the receiver.

"Erica speaking," I managed to say, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Erica? What on earth are you doing?!"

It was Joe.

Joe was my closest friend and legal colleague in the city—a sharp, upright civil rights attorney who had helped me navigate the local courts when I first moved back from Panama. He was one of the few people who genuinely cared about my well-being without any hidden motives.

"Joe?" I asked, frowning slightly. "What are you talking about?"

"I just saw the public press notification your firm published five minutes ago!" Joe shouted over the line, his voice thick with frustration and disbelief. "Erica, tell me it's a mistake. Why did you agree to defend the most dangerous mafia lord in this entire city? Do you have any idea about all his crimes in the past?"