Chapter 1: Another Day, Another Meeting with Him

I’m Victoria Maloney, a lawyer of some years standing now, and about to pass through the gated entrance of a client’s well-appointed, almost mansion-like residence just outside of the City. I’m forty-two years old and very comfortable in my own skin, never having had difficulty in attracting men, my five feet, seven inches in height and 36DD’s always getting second, sometimes third and fourth looks. Men are drawn to me, and if I say that it turns me on, it’s because it does. I am very sexual, but I consider myself the consummate professional, and always careful to detach myself from the slightest hint to anyone I’m dealing with that it’s anything more than being business. Today is business, but this particular client invokes in me, feelings I’m still uncertain of. I’m getting used to where I go, or more to the point where I’m taken to with this client. For some reason I can’t explain why I always want to go where I’m taken, but I do. Sometimes I want it so much it worries me. As I pull up to park, I make the obligatory check in the mirror, seeing hazel eyes staring back at me, and I have a little readjustment of my hair, my long brunette hair, as one does. I see the two suited men at the front door. I know that they are guards. I know that this particular client is not, how can I put it, the most honest of individuals, but the firm at which I am an associate partner has been instructed by him for some years, before I was even engaged there, fifteen years ago now.

It was only about six months ago that by chance I bumped into him at the Firm’s offices when he visited to see Carl Symons, his usual lawyer, then all of sudden I’m told by senior partners that this particular client would prefer that I became his point of contact with the Firm. I met him just the once in my office, and only briefly then, and ever since I have travelled to where I am now, or anywhere else I’m told to go for that matter, in order to take further instructions or discuss any ongoing matters. I have to say that I have become a little uncomfortable with the relationship because of the change I feel in myself when in his presence. I want to be professional with him. I always arrive intending to, but I don’t feel that I am myself in his presence because of where I go when I am, even though I always want to go there. And although these words might sound the strangest of things to say, whenever we meet I immediately feel that I am his. I don’t have a problem at the time, feeling that I’m his that is, but it’s before I arrive, and most certainly after we part, that I repeatedly ask myself how it can be how it is. Although I’ve become used to it, and want it when I’m there, I still ask myself how. When I’m with my husband Kevin, after I’ve seen this particular client, I wonder if he knows, if he can guess, that I’ve done things that I surely shouldn’t have. This client is a known organised crime boss, and that brings with it certain limitations on professional freedom for a lawyer when choosing complicity in certain activity over legal and social responsibility, but ever since this client introduced me to an associate of his, Doctor Steiger, I’ve found that serving his needs has become far more important to me than those of my oath. The moment I met this Doctor Steiger, that oath to serve the law seemed to dissipate in favour of serving something else, something worrying at times, but I know I’ll feel much better about that when I’m in his presence again, I always do.

“Ron’s expecting me” I say at the door. “We know, Victoria. Nice to see you again”, one of the men respond as he opens the front door behind him. I walk in. Ron Barberi is sixty-five years of age, just as my father is, actually, so I look at him in much the same way sometimes. Tall, still fit and muscular, and silver haired to compliment his maturity. He’s waiting in the first reception room and when I enter I see him by the fireplace with another man sitting in an armchair close by. About sixty as well, I guessed, and as he rose I could see he was shorter than me, and although smartly dressed, his carrying more weight than perhaps he should made him appear a little untidy. “Good morning, Victoria” Ron said. “Good morning Ron” I replied, and when our eyes meet I feel again that sense of belonging. Belonging to him. Why this is, I just do not know. My heart misses a beat and, as always, I feel a sense of arousal. Throughout my career I have sought to maintain the strictest of professionalism in client relationships, but with Ron I’ve found this almost impossible, and the irony is that when I’m in his presence I don’t care at all for that. The nature of the relationship means that I’ve lost a degree of professional freedom, as I say, being somewhat complicit as I am in what his business activities amount to, but I do feel instead a certain personal freedom that the nature of the relationship allows. I can, and willingly do, provide the sort of personal service he sometimes requires without the level of restriction other professional relationships entail. “This is Paulo Parisi, Victoria” Ron tells me, gesturing to the other man. I smile at him and say “Good morning Mister Parisi.”

“Paulo, please, Victoria” he says, and I smile with a nod. “What a beautiful woman” Paulo says to Ron, which pleases me of course. What woman doesn’t like such a compliment? “Indeed she is” Ron responds. “I can see why you chose her” Paulo then says, which I wasn’t quite sure how to take. “Yes, Maria had some input there” Ron says. Maria being his wife, who I have meet on a few occasions now. Ron invites me to sit down, and then we are all seated. Ron explains that Paulo is an associate facing a police investigation into seeking contributions from a local casino owner for certain charitable purposes, so he says, and that a misunderstanding has arisen that he now hoped I might review the circumstances of and instruct a suitably experienced lawyer to represent him at a forthcoming court hearing. It’s not my field of expertise. Mine is in mergers, but this is the service I provide Ron at his behest. I’ll instruct another lawyer as necessary. I obtained as much detail as I felt I needed and I said I would, taking notes carefully on the tablet I use for such purposes before closing it down and looking at Ron, waiting for further instruction. The momentary silence was a little disarming. I noticed Paulo looking at me intently, and I didn’t quite know what to say. Ron then said to Paulo, “Have you got time?” Paulo looked at me even more intently. I could see his eyes moving up and down, checking me out. “It wouldn’t take me long” he said. Ron turned to me and said “Victoria, put your tablet down. Can you walk back over to the door for me, and turn back around?”