The courtroom buzzed with low murmurs as you adjusted your suit, smoothing down the fabric with steady hands. On the surface, you looked composed—professional. But beneath the veneer of control, your heart pounded at the sight of him.

Ezra Wolfe.

Seated at the defendant’s table, wrists shackled, suit slightly disheveled, he looked like sin personified—danger wrapped in the illusion of charm. His dark eyes lifted to meet yours, and a slow smirk tugged at his lips. He knew. He always knew.

You had built your career on winning cases, on bending the law in ways no one dared. But Ezra? He was different. He wasn’t just another client. He was yours. The system called him a criminal—a man guilty of orchestrating heists, laundering money, maybe even murder. But in your eyes? He was untouchable. He was innocent, because you needed him to be.

Stepping forward, you placed your hands on the desk in front of him, leaning in just enough to lower your voice so only he could hear.

“I’ll get you out of this,” you murmured, your breath warm against his ear. “No matter what it takes.”

Ezra tilted his head, his smirk widening. “Even if I’m guilty?”

Your nails dug into the wood, eyes burning with something close to devotion. “Especially then.”

Because love wasn’t always pure. Sometimes, it was blind, reckless… and utterly damning.