When Heroes Fall (Anti-Heroes in Love 1)

I swallowed the weary sigh that swelled in my throat. This wasn’t the first time Ethan had come at me. He was the son of a well-established lawyer at the firm who didn’t understand why nepotism couldn’t make up for his lazy work ethic.

“I’m wearing heels bigger than your dick, so if this is a pissing contest, I think it’s safe to say I win,” I said lightly, finally looking up to deliver Ethan a mega-watt smile I’d learned from Cosima.

“You fucking––”

“Ms. Lombardi,” Yara’s silken tones sounded from the door, and Ethan swiveled almost comically to face her. “I take it you’re well briefed now on the specifics of the case?”

Ethan gaped as I nodded. “Yes, I’ve already filed for a speedy trial as you asked, and I have some ideas of how we can approach pre-trial motions.”

“Excellent.” The elegant older woman nodded at me, which was as good as a hug coming from her before she turned to finally lift an eyebrow at Ethan. “Mr. Topp, while Elena has accomplished all of this, have you only succeeded in trying to distract her, or have you completed any of your own work?”

Ethan flushed as bright as his copper-toned hair, muttered something about being busy under his breath, then excused himself, practically running out of the room past Yara.

When he was gone, Yara smiled slightly at me. “It takes a certain woman to wear shoes like that, Ms. Lombardi.” She shifted her weight to one heel to showcase her own towering high heels, velvet black Jimmy Choo Anouk pumps.

A startled laugh worked itself out of my throat, falling past my lips.

I couldn’t help but beam at her as I sat back in my chair. “I agree.”

It was no small thing to discover an ally, especially a powerful one in a top NYC law firm. Associates were treated as lowly factory workers by most of the partners who strutted through the halls like capricious dictators, and lawyers were often encouraged to pit themselves against each other. It was like high school on steroids with bullying, comparisons, and associates crying in the bathroom stalls a daily occurrence.

It was nothing compared to my upbringing in Naples, so it didn’t faze me, but I could recognize that Yara had just extended her protection. By the end of the workday, every other associate on our floor would know about the subtle put-down she’d handed to Ethan and the validation she’d gifted me.

I felt high on the moment, which was why I didn’t notice the saccharine set of Yara’s smile. It was only when she closed the door to the conference room and stepped forward to curl her hands over the back of the chair across from me that a little thrill of premonition worked up my spine.

“I understand you have a working relationship with USA O’Malley,” she said casually, even though the moment she spoke the words, I knew there was nothing casual about where she was leading me.

I blinked at her. “I wouldn’t go that far, but we have a passing acquaintance.”

Which was an understatement.

Yes, I’d first met Dennis in the hall at the Pearl Street Courthouse two years ago, but the USA had known about me my entire life.

This was because, against all odds, he was my criminal father’s best friend growing up on the streets of Brooklyn.

I could still recall the look of utter shock on his face as he’d automatically reached out to steady me when we bumped shoulders in the crowded hall and the way his mouth had formed around my name, more breath than sound.

Elena Moore.

That wasn’t my name, and it hadn’t been in years. Not since Seamus disappeared shortly after Cosima left to work in Milan at the age of eighteen. Every one of us—except for Giselle, for reasons unknown to me—had decided to take our mother’s name because our mother had always been our only real parent.

But it was chilling that he had known my birth name. He’d seemed even more surprised when I’d jerked out of his hold and turned the other way to walk down the hall without confirming my identity. In the two years since, he’d reached out through the office, explaining that he was “old friends” with Seamus and would love to connect with me.

I never called him back.

It didn’t do much to deter him, though. He was a lawyer and a winning one at that; my refusal only heightened his excitement and turned the chase into some kind of game for him.

But my only recourse was to ignore him, so I did.

“Well, when we spoke earlier about discovery, he gave me the impression you were acquainted.” Yara’s gaze was assessing as her eyes swept over my carefully curled shoulder-length hair, the high collar of my intricate lace blouse, and the precisely filled-in color of my blood-red pout. “You recently broke up with your partner, if I’m not mistaken?”