"So what you're telling me," Julian uncrossed his arms and pinched the bridge of his nose, "is that even though you have no idea who this woman is, you still want me to take her case?"

His friend Alex leaned forward pleadingly. "Come on, Julian. You have a perfect record anyways. If you lose this one, it won't affect you all that much, but I could lose my job!"

"I don't do pro-bonos, Alex. Especially not for criminals."

"Just this once!" Alex begged. "I'll owe you forever, man. Really. Just help me this one time. Please?"

**

Less than 30 minutes later, Julian closed his eyes and cursed himself internally, already feeling pangs of regret. His hand tightened around the door knob of the prison's visitation room. What on earth had possessed him to say yes?

He groaned, tugging his hand away from the knob and through his hair agitatedly. A corporate lawyer taking a criminal case? For free? He must've been crazy. "Goddamn Alex," he muttered in frustration. "He owes me big for this."

Reluctantly, he pulled open the door and stepped inside. As soon as he did, a female voice accosted him.

"Who are you?"

I knew this was a bad idea, he thought in annoyance. He signalled to the guards to leave the room before turning to meet the woman whose case he'd so irrationally taken on.

"I'm your lawyer, Julian Kade," he replied, trying not to let irritation seep into his tone. "I'm here to—"

Julian's voice abruptly died in his throat. His lips parted as he laid eyes on her, all faculties of reasonable thought arrested.

The first thing he saw was her hair. A deep, beautiful red, it fell over her shoulders and down her back in waves of auburn fire. In sharp contrast, sea-green eyes greeted him, staring up at him fiercely but with an undeniable allure. Long lashes paired with plump pink lips completed the picture. In any other setting, he'd ask her out in a heartbeat. This was the woman he'd been sent to defend?

"You're here to what? Throw another one of the prosecution's deals at me?" Those green eyes he'd been so enchanted by narrowed at him in suspicion, and Julian shook himself out of his stupor. Stupid, he chastised himself. Unprofessional. Beautiful or not, she was a criminal, and he her lawyer. Any semblance of romantic thoughts had to be stomped out immediately.

He cleared his throat, taking a seat at the table in the middle of the room, directly opposite her. "I'm afraid not." Smoothing over his expression, he gazed at her detachedly. "Cutting deals isn't my style. My plan is to win and for you to walk free, either through a trial or other means."

She sat back, the handcuffs on her wrists clinking. A hint of surprise coloured her features. "You . . . you plan on winning?"

"I don't like repeating myself," he said drily, "but yes, that's the general idea."

She hesitated for a moment before nodding firmly. Julian tried not to be distracted by the way her hair swished from the movement.

"Just to be clear," she said quickly, her courage from before seeming to desert her, "you have read the details of my case, haven't you?"

Julian held her gaze for a moment longer before opening his briefcase, extracting a file and reading the contents aloud. "Name of the defendant is Sofia Eliot. No prior convictions. The charges against her are obstruction of justice, tampering with a crime scene, and," he paused, feeling an obscure twinge of sorrow, "murder in the first degree."

The woman hung her head, which Julian immediately recognized as a sign of guilt. Any affection he may have felt for her before this moment shrivelled away, sealed behind the iron wall that was her crime.

Murder. The irrevocable taking of a life.

For some reason, despite it being tinged with grief at what could have been, he felt a sense of relief. At least with this revelation there was no threat of him being swayed by her charm or grace of manner. Lawyer and client, that's all they were to each other.

"Obviously, I'll need to hear the whole story from you," he continued, snapping the file closed. "First degree murder is a serious crime, and if convicted the defendant could face life imprisonment or even de—"

He cut himself off abruptly. She raised her head in resignation. "Death, right?" she murmured weakly. "Capital punishment."

He stared at her, assaulted by the thought. It hadn't occurred to him before, but the realization now swept over him like a bucket of ice-cold water. He was suddenly reminded why he'd avoided entering criminal law in the first place.

She could die.

If he lost, she could die. The life of this vibrant, bewitching woman could be permanently extinguished. Inexplicably, the thought of never again seeing those fiery emerald eyes, despite only having met her a few moments ago, stirred up something awful inside him.

"Yes," he replied slowly, still processing the newfound weight placed upon him. "Capital punishment."

She took in a shaky breath before straightening. "But as long as we win, it shouldn't matter, should it?" she asked him resolutely.

Strength of character had always been something Julian valued, and this woman—no, Sofia—seemed to have it in scores. Mirroring her resolve, he infused his voice with confidence when he replied. "No, it shouldn't. Lucky for you, you've managed to land yourself a damn good lawyer."

Sofia smiled at him then, and for the second time that day he found himself at a loss for words. It was a lovely, warm, heart-breakingly innocent smile, and Julian couldn't help but wonder how someone like her could be capable of planning and executing the murder of another human being. It seemed fundamentally unacceptable, like a cosmic coding error that had put her in the wrong place at the wrong time. But he'd seen her guilt for himself, and knew that somehow, impossibly, it had to be true. Sofia was a criminal. A murderer.

Her lilting voice drew him out of his musings. "I'm sure you think I'm being shameless here," she said, shifting in discomfort, "trying to, you know, avoid a punishment that's justified." The clink of her handcuffs betrayed the fidgeting of her hands. "After all, I . . ." she gulped, trying to get the words out. "I killed him."

Julian was careful not to show any change in his expression, but her confession only confirmed what he already knew. "Tell me everything," he said simply. "Don't leave anything out."

So she told him.

Julian listened with rapture, unable to break his gaze away. Against his better judgement, he felt himself growing more and more emotionally invested as the story went on. Any doubts or reservations he may have had about her were destroyed, lost in his rising fury at the injustice committed against her.

She told him of her family, decimated by a fire in her youth, consisting of only her 11 year old brother and their uncle.

Their alcoholic, abusive uncle.

One day, she'd come home to find her brother, bloody and nearly dead, lying on the kitchen floor. Her uncle was standing over him with a broken Jack Daniel's in his grip. She remembered the haunting sight of blood running off the jagged edge of the bottle, the red droplets a shocking contrast to the white tile they landed on. When Sofia's voice thickened and her eyes filled with tears, Julian was seized by the desire to comfort her, to tell her everything would be okay. That he would get her out of this.

But her story wasn't finished, and he forced himself to stay still and endure with mounting horror the ugly words that fell from her beautiful lips. He watched mutely as she clenched her fists, her fingernails carving crescent moons into the soft flesh of her palms. Allowing himself this one indulgence, Julian reached over to grasp her hand and enfold it into his own, feeling a wave of indecipherable emotion when she accepted his grip and squeezed back gratefully.

Letting the tears flow freely now, Sofia described an inhuman anger upon seeing her baby brother crumpled and helpless—a feeling Julian was beginning to recognize for himself. Encompassed by hatred and years of pent-up rage, Sofia had tackled her uncle, her slight frame more than enough to push his drunken figure to the ground. They had struggled, and with one back-handed slap her uncle sent her crashing into a cabinet door, where she hit her head against the metal handle. Julian's hold on her hand tightened; he knew what came next, but dreaded hearing it anyway.

Dazed, she'd sensed her uncle stumble over to her brother's body and start to kick him. Hot tears streamed down her face as she listened to her brother cry out in pain, over and over. Finally, out of the corner of her eye, she spied the broken whiskey bottle her uncle had abandoned. In one horrible moment that seemed to stretch out forever, she'd grabbed it and shoved the razor-sharp edge into her uncle's torso.

He'd fallen in slow motion, hitting the ground with a resounding thud. Sofia watched in muted horror as his eyes glassed over and his body went still. She vaguely remembered trying to clean the blood pooling around him—hence the obstruction and tampering charges. She'd only wanted to protect her brother—monster though he was, she didn't mean to kill him. She didn't mean to become a monster of her own.

Sofia was outright sobbing now. "I-I'm sorry," she stuttered, her voice trembling. "I'm not usually s-so emotional . . ."

His heart wrenching for her, Julian quickly tried to soothe her worries. "No, it's fine," he assured her gently. "Is your brother alright?"

She nodded, still trying to regain control. "Yeah, I called 911," she began, breathing deeply. "But apparently my uncle's life insurance—I guess it went up after my parents' deaths, I don't know—it was huge. The police thought that's why I killed him," she said, with a bitter laugh. "For money."

Julian mulled over this quietly, watching a few leftover tears roll down her cheeks. He was appalled that none of the state-appointed lawyers had even considered her story, and this only fuelled his desperate desire to protect her. To assure her that everything would be fine. "You're nothing like him, you know," he murmured softly, entranced.

She froze, looking up at him. His breath caught in his throat, and he became painfully aware of their intertwined hands, which were still tangled together in an intimate mess. Her story had toppled any defences he may have hoped to maintain during this case, and the earnestness in her gaze only ensured they'd stay down. In that moment, Julian realized an alarming truth.

He was in deep.

As though he'd been burned, he pulled his hand from hers. Sofia also snapped out of whatever reverie she'd been in and wiped her tears, a furious blush spreading across her face. Despite the harrowing tale he'd just heard, he couldn't help staring at her adorable attempts to hide her embarrassment. Why did she have to be so damn cute?

Clearing his throat, he tried to refocus on the case. "Anyways, at least now we have reasonable doubt."

Sofia coughed, her face still bright red. "How's that?"

The corner of Julian's lips tugged into a vengeful smirk. "Defence of others. A devoted sister rushing to the aid of her younger brother, both threatened with serious bodily harm by their legal guardian? Open and shut." Julian ticked off each point on his fingers, seeing the path to success as clear as day. He wasn't lying when he said he was a damn good lawyer. "Trust me, you'll be out of here within the week."

A movement from Sofia drew his attention back to her. "Thank you," she whispered sincerely, and Julian felt his heart skip a beat. I really am a goner, he thought ruefully.

Smiling despite himself, he took her hand again and shook his head. One meeting—that was all it took, and he was hers.

"You've got me now," he said softly. "Don't you worry about a thing."