Book cover of “Married to the Ruthless Lawyer“ by Julie A

Married to the Ruthless Lawyer

  • Genre: Romance
  • Age: 18+
  • Status: Completed
  • Language: English
  • Author: Julie A
Kitty went all in for love: her morals, her reputation, her whole life on the line, all for the one who stole her heart. But when she caught him in a threesome, including a woman she couldn't stand, her life turned into a nightmare, and she blamed herself entirely. Before she knew it, she found herself back on a path she thought she'd left behind f... 

Chapter 1

"Are you sure about this?" Trish asked her friend as they stood in front of a magnificent building.

"You don't have to do this. He cheated, remember?" Trish went on to say, trying to convince her friend.

But the woman stood there, raising her head to the 54th-floor building of Dante's law firm. It was built with glass from the bottom to the 54th floor, and only lawyers with top degrees worked there.

It wasn't a place for striving lawyers but for those who knew how to turn the ball over to their favor in court, even if it meant committing crimes. Winning was all Dante's law firm cared about.

Located in the center of Seoul, it was the leading law firm in Korea, possibly because a Westerner owned it.

The woman sighed profoundly, trying to convince herself that she had got her act together, but it wasn't true. The more she hesitated to take a step forward and walk through the gate, the faster her heartbeat increased.

She curled her hand into a fist, recalling that terrible sight. "But at least he didn't love them," a voice whispered within her, trying to convince her that she might still have a chance.

"I'm sure about this," she muttered loud enough for Trish to hear.

"He cheated; for Christ's sake, you don't have to go back to him. Can't you see he is just toying with you?" Trish begged her.

"I need him," the woman screamed at her friend.

"You don't belong here. Let's leave this place; let's go back to America," Trish's voice became weak. She was tired, tired of working for Dante's Firm.

It wasn't where they belonged; they couldn't comply with their rules. But then again, Trish was kicked out of the firm because of her friend, and sincerely, she had no issue with it. She would have resigned when her friend got fired.

"Is this about the money?" Trish asked.

"It's not just about the money. I was kicked out of my house like I owed rent. Did he have to go to that extent? I won every case for him, made him quite more popular than he is. There was nothing he asked of me that I didn't do, but what did I get in return?" The woman kept screaming.

Tears of regret rolled down her cheeks, and her long, fluffy blonde hair danced swiftly to the cool morning breeze.

Her hazel eyes welled up with tears, but even in such pain, her eyesight was still bright. It wasn't red.

Her eyes always stayed bright and clear, like she never cried.

The only way to know was her swollen cheeks and shaking lips. She couldn't hide that. She sighed and then said, "I'm doing this. I won't stay calm."

Trish gulped her saliva as she watched her friend walk through those gates with doubts in her heart, making her unable to follow behind. Trish's legs were shaking. Mr. Dante wasn't going to get it easy with her.

"The least I can do is follow through," Trish sighed and hastily walked behind her friend, who was walking so fast on six-inch heels.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, you are no longer allowed here," the hefty guards at the entrance prevented the woman from entering.

"Are you mad? Don't you dare lay a finger on me," the woman shrieked at the guards.

"Let me through," she screamed. When she saw she wasn't going to get her way in, she smiled and turned around like she was going to leave, but in the blink of an eye, she quickly turned around.

Suddenly, there was a loud thump, as if a heavyweight had hit the ground. The guard's gaze promptly drifted to the ground, but to their surprise, the woman crawled right through the men's legs.

She was a size six. She wasn't tall, nor was she curvy.

"Holy crap!" The guard screamed.

The woman quickly stood up and ran on her heels through the front desk. Other guards came in to prevent her from going through the ID card security check.

When she got there, she quickly pulled out her ID from her bag. Would it still work? She doubted it, but when she turned around and saw the guards catching up to her, she decided to try it anyway.

"Beep!" The machine sounded, opening the way for her to go through. "He didn't deactivate my card. He must be serious," she thought to herself as she gulped and quickly ran towards the elevator.

She continuously tapped the button until it opened. "Shit," she rolled her eyes as more guards exited the elevator.

She rushed towards the stairway and used an iron rod she found on the floor to shut the door and prevent the guards from following her.

She ran upwards, heading for the top floor of the building. "Oh my," she sighed as her eyes followed the stairs upwards. It looked like a never-ending stairway.

She crossed her bag over her shoulders and started running up the stairs on her heels with all her energy.

Humiliation burned through her. This is what it has come to.

Before Kitty became the best lawyer in the firm, she was a Salsa dancer; she could dance any dance on her heels. Her friend would always say, "If you meet Kitty without her heels, that's only when she's sleeping."

Even if it was just to get a drink across the street, Kitty would wear her heels.

Mostly, she loved having sex in heels, placing them on her partner's body and crossing them over his neck. It was one of the freaky things that turned her on.

In no time, she started panting, but she didn't stop; she didn't decrease her speed. She wanted to know why Dante cheated on her.

She gave her all to him and sabotaged her name for him. She was called different kinds of names throughout her career because she stood for what the firm stood for. She did everything possible to win every case and was even made a partner.

She did all this because of LOVE, the love she never got in return.

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