Dingy brown walls, scraped up and scuffed floors, with two cheap, torn chairs as the only furnishings. She could smell the musty scent of sex, drugs, and filth as if it were a part of the very lining of the walls. Clearly, the judge was trying to make a point, to tell her just how low he believed she was, and how low those in the firm she now worked would as well.

She’d worked hard to get her life back on track and he wasn’t taking that from her. Gina headed down a hallway, and up the stairs. As she reached the third floor, she flipped the record button on her cell phone, making sure every bit of this encounter was recorded. She fully intended to turn the power upside down.

She found the room she needed and knocked, no hesitation, no reason to wait. The door flew open and Judge Moore waved her in, still fully dressed in a dress shirt, tie and slacks, but the sly smile on his face told her he didn’t intend to stay that way.

The door slammed behind her.

“Lock it,” he ordered.

She did as he said, flipping the latch.

He stopped at the edge of the bed. She stopped at the edge of the hallway leading into the room. “Take your coat off,” he said. “I’d hate for you to get hot.”

She set her purse down, leaving the folds open to allow the recorder the best reception. Her coat followed but she tossed it on the bed, making sure not to cover her purse.

His gaze raked over the white lace blouse she’d changed into before arriving. It dipped low to reveal her ample cle**age and she’d paired with an equally seductive slim figure-hugging black skirt. The blatantly lustful look on his face let her know, that despite his almost ex-wife being barely in the ground, he intended to f**k her. She knew that already. Only one question remained: what else did he want?

“Like what you see, Judge?” she asked.

“Don’t most men?”

“I didn’t ask about most men. I asked about you.”

She sashayed to him, letting her h*ps do a sultry dance, stopping in front of him, letting him know she wasn’t about to wilt under this threats. “What are we doing here, Judge? Or should I say, Master?” She glanced around the room. “I would have thought you’d have chosen a nicer place.”

“Isn’t this the kind of place you prefer?”

“I moved up from this years ago, honey,” she said. “I like my hotels plush and my men loaded. I hope you have lots of cash. I’m expensive.”

He laughed. “So you don’t mind if I pass your card out to your employers? There are eleven men and Julie, aren’t there? I bet we could get you a promotion.”

Her lips twitched as her gaze dropped to the bulge in his pants. “What is it you want besides the obvious, Judge?”

“It’s simple enough,” he said. “I want information on your boss and anyone she comes in contact with. Passwords to her private files, records of her calls, anything with my name on it, as a top priority.”

She clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, seeing her chance for a turnabout. “Sounds like a big order. What will I get in return?”

He looked down at her br**sts. “What we do,” he said, tearing his gaze from her cle**age, ”which I intend for us to do often, will be our little secret. Just as what you’ve done in the past will be as well.” He reached out and shoved her blouse and her bra down to expose her ni**les, teasing them with his fingers. And damn, if her body didn’t respond, as it always did, even when she hated the bastard like she did this one.

“There is one condition,” he said with a raspy voice.

She quirked a brow, trying to ignore the way his fingers were arousing her. “Which is?”

He ignored her question. “Unbutton your blouse,” he ordered.

She didn’t hesitate. Her fingers worked the buttons quickly. His lust was her power. She went down on her knees in front of him, her hand striking his zipper. “I’ll give you what you want, all of it – pleasure and satisfaction. For fifty thousand dollars I’ll even get you your dead wife’s journal.” It was a mistake. He had her up and shoved against the wall in two seconds flat. “What journal?”

Her heart thundered in her ears but she recovered from the initial surprise of his attack. It wasn’t the first time she’d been roughed up. “I told you for fifty-”

He shoved a hand to her throat. “You have no idea what you are into, bitch. What journal?”

Gina grabbed at his hands, gasping for air. “Let go,” she squeaked. “Let...go.”

“You going to tell me what I want to know?”

“Yes. Yes.”

He loosed his hold on her neck but didn’t let go. “I heard Julie talking to someone named Diana about a dead person’s journal. I did some research and figured out that’s Elizabeth’s sister.”

“Where is it?”

“She and that Walker brother have it,” she hissed.

“You’re going to get it for me and you can forget the fifty-fucking thousand dollars. The only one who’ll be paying anything is you if I don’t get it. That price will be your life. The people I work with will bleed you dry to get what they want and then make you disappear.”

***

Judge Moore sat on the edge of the lumpy mattress and dropped his head into his hands. “Shit,” he mumbled letting the word echo through the empty room.

He had gotten himself into a hell of a mess. If Arel found out he had done him wrong he would be a dead man. Just hearing his wife had caused more trouble would be enough to make Arel mad enough to draw blood. If Arel ever found out he and Dragonfly had double-crossed him, they’d be digging their own graves.