Chapter 1: Cell 405
(RUBY’S POV)
I sit in my glass-walled office, smoothing the invisible wrinkles in my charcoal blazer. My name is Ruby Steele. In the courtroom, I’m known as a machine—a by-the-book defense attorney with a track record that makes my rivals grit their teeth. I’ve spent years redeeming the unredeemable, ensuring the law is followed to the letter, and winning cases that seemed like lost causes. To me, every client is just a file, a set of facts, and a puzzle to be solved.
Until Mr. Cass, my superior, walked in and dropped a thick, weathered folder on my desk.
“Kayden Moro,” Cass said, his voice unusually grim. “The state wants his head, Ruby. He’s a notorious gang leader facing life for a brutal murder, and he’s making it easy for them. He won’t talk, he won’t cooperate, and he’s refusing to sign his appeal.”
I looked at the grainy intake photo—dark, defiant eyes and a jawline that looked carved from granite. I thought this would be just another regular job. I thought I’d simply walk in, argue the statutes, and ensure he faced his crime with proper representation. I didn’t know that stepping into his world meant stepping off a cliff. I had no idea that by trying to save his life, I was putting my soul on the line.
The Walk of Shame
The air in Blackwood Penitentiary is thick with the scent of stagnant floor wax and the metallic tang of despair. My name is Ruby Steele, and usually, these walls don’t intimidate me. I’m the woman who walks into courtrooms and dismantles the prosecution’s best arguments without breaking a sweat. I’m by-the-book, polished, and untouchable. But today, as the heavy iron gates buzz and grind open behind me, the sound feels like a trap door closing.
Mr. Cass had been unusually blunt when he dropped the folder on my desk. Kayden Moro. The name alone carries a weight that makes the air in my lungs feel thin. He’s a notorious gang leader facing a brutal murder charge, and the state is already salivating at the chance to put him on death row. My job isn’t to like him; it’s to redeem the unredeemable and ensure he faces his crime with a proper defense.
“Counselor,” the guard grunts, snapping me out of my thoughts. He gestures toward the consultation room. “He’s in there. He’s been waiting. Just a heads up—don’t let him get in your head. He’s a different kind of animal.”
I straighten my charcoal blazer, smoothing the fabric over my hips. I need to be a machine today. I need to be the attorney who doesn’t feel.
The King of Cell 405
I push the door open and the atmosphere shifts instantly. The room is small, oppressive, and lit by a single, buzzing bulb that casts harsh shadows. Kayden Moro is already seated. He doesn’t look like a man facing a life sentence. He looks like a king who happens to be in a cage.
His hands are handcuffed in front of him, the heavy steel links resting on the cold metal table. He is breathtaking in a way that feels like a physical blow. His skin is a deep, rugged tan, and his dark hair is messy in a way that feels intentional. His jumpsuit is unzipped halfway, revealing the hard, carved ridges of his chest and a tattoo of a serpent creeping up his corded throat.
But it’s his eyes that stop my breath. They are a piercing, sea-blue—so bright they almost glow. They are the kind of eyes that make a woman feel exposed, as if he can see every secret I’ve ever kept. I feel a traitorous heat bloom deep in my belly just looking at him. I sit down, my movements stiff, and open my briefcase to create a barrier of paper between us.
“Mr. Moro, I’m Ruby Steele,” I say, my voice steady. “I’ve been assigned to your defense. You’re facing a murder charge that the state wants to turn into a death sentence. We need to go over the facts of the case, and I need you to start talking if you want to stay alive.”
I go into my professional routine, explaining the statutes and the lack of a murder weapon. I talk for ten minutes, but he doesn’t say a word. He just stares. His blue eyes track the movement of my lips, then slide down to the pulse jumping in my neck. The silence in the room becomes heavy, charged with an electric tension that makes the hair on my arms stand up.
The Scent of a Secret
“Are you even listening to me, Kayden?” I finally snap, my composure slipping.
A slow, dark smirk pulls at his mouth. “I’ve heard of you, Ruby Steele,” he says. His voice is a low, gravelly vibration that makes my skin prickle. “The small, innocent lawyer. The one with the stubborn head who thinks she can play in the dirt and stay clean.”
He leans forward, the chains on his wrists clinking harshly. “You’re juicy, Ruby. You look like you taste like expensive wine and bad decisions. I bet you’ve never had a man like me look at you and tell you exactly how he’d ruin that perfect little bun in your hair.”
“Stay professional, Mr. Moro,” I hiss, my face flushing hot.
He doesn’t listen. He stands up abruptly, the chair screeching against the floor. Before I can react, he’s leaning over the table, looming over me until I’m trapped against the back of my chair. He’s so close I can smell tobacco, rain, and a raw, masculine scent that makes my head swim. He tilts his head, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.
“You smell like vanilla and that expensive soap, Ruby,” he whispers, his breath hot against my skin. “But that’s not what I’m looking at. I know that when you’re stressed, you rub that lavender oil on your wrists to keep from shaking. I’ve watched you through the gate for the last three days. I know you spend your lunch break in the courtyard, tucked in the corner where the cameras don’t see you, rubbing that scent into your skin while you bite that bottom lip and pray for a way out.”
He lets out a low, dark chuckle that sends a shiver straight down my spine.
“I’ve been watching you long before you ever walked into this room, Little Lawyer. I know exactly how you smell when you’re scared… and I can’t wait to find out how you smell when you’re mine.”