CHAPTER 150: EMILIANO’S LAWSUIT- PART 1 ( TOM’S POV )

"How did you get arrested?"

"Lucrezia seems to dislike me. Ain’t it just sad?"

"Seems like you are in a good mood."

"Why would I be?"

"You got punched and you almost killed a guy. Do you know how difficult it would have been to represent you if you had gotten through with it?"

"Well, I behaved. What’s a man supposed to do when a sweaty, dirty Neanderthal puts his slimy hands on him?"

"You’re hopeless."

"Sounds like a you problem, Mister Big Bad Lawyer."

"Why would you even choose me to represent you? You hate me."

"Contrary. I like you a lot. If you weren’t like a fly attracted to honey around my wife, I would have liked you even more."

"Where’s Luther by the way?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"You broke up?"

"We weren’t together to begin with. I used him for what I needed and that was about it."

"Bullsh-t."

Emiliano wore an arrogant smirk like it was a f-cking badge of honor.

His lips twitched with smug amusement, eyes scanning the room like he was looking for a camera to smirk to.

Jim from the Office would have been proud.

He leaned back, clearly impressed—with himself.

"Yeah, it is.

"

"So you’re divorced now?"

"On a break."

"Until you catch him."

"You are smarter than you look, Mister Lawyer."

"You’re a headache. You cut me open and left me for dead. Why should I take your case?"

"Two main reasons besides your obvious crush on me. You need me out of prison to destroy Lucrezia since I am the only one with enough influence to put up with her. Two— you want me under your eye to assure I don’t catch my stray puppy."

I hated that smirk. He knew already that he was right.

Even in a situation where he is the one needing my help, he still has the upper hand.

Emiliano stood there like he owned the place, his long black hair a mess, falling into his face like he didn’t even care.

His glasses were cracked on one side, barely hanging onto his nose, and his shirt looked like it had lost a fight with his laundry basket.

Still, he acted like none of it mattered.

His golden eyes locked on me, sharp and gleaming with that usual look—superiority, like he was three steps ahead and just waiting for me to catch up.

And then came the smirk, that irritating, smug little twitch of his lips that made my jaw tighten on instinct.

I could feel my patience thinning by the second.

It was all there in the way he looked at me, like he was entertained. I scoffed, looking away, rubbing my temples hard, trying to push back the headache I could already feel building behind my eyes.

But I have to put up with the psycho.

For Luther.

Love is hard.

"Ok. So let’s see what they have on you."

I opened Emiliano’s file, already expecting a mess, but still not ready for just how far it went. First charge: assisting a national fugitive. I sighed. Second: hiding a toxic, poisonous, and unlawful omega—bold phrasing, even for the department. Then came coercion and blackmail directed at Akna Pharmaceuticals, and finally, unauthorized use of pheromones for persuasion. I didn’t even want to think about the details behind that one.

I rubbed my temples, slow and deliberate, as if pressure might force out the irritation building behind my eyes.

Across the table, Emiliano sat with that same infuriating calm, entirely unbothered. He was gathering his long, messy black hair into a ponytail, fingers working methodically as if this were just another regular morning and not an official hearing.

Then, as if remembering the concept of presentation at the last second, he started patting down his wrinkled shirt—completely failing to make it look any less like it had been pulled from the bottom of a bag.

I closed my eyes.

Just for a moment.

Not to rest—God, no—but to stop myself from snapping.

Breathe in. Hold it. Exhale.

It didn’t help.

He still sat there, utterly unconcerned, probably already spinning his next excuse. Or story. Or manipulation. I opened my eyes again, expression blank, trying to keep the lid on the annoyance simmering just beneath the surface.

This was going to be a long session.

"Alright. You’re being accused of harboring Luther, a known fugitive. Our defense will argue that you were unaware of his status as an unlawful, toxic omega. In other words, you didn’t know about the omega-related charges. That means, at most, you hid a man wanted for murder—nothing more."

"Yeah, that sounds more defendable."

I grimaced at his snarky comment, jaw tightening before I could stop it.

I didn’t bother responding—he was clearly enjoying himself too much for a man facing public execution.

Instead, I looked away, forcing my focus back to the file in front of me, anything to avoid giving him the satisfaction of a reaction.

"It is. Until they prove that Luther is truly guilty for killing his father, they can’t place this charge on you."

"Impressive, Mister Lawyer."

"Cut it out already. We need to focus."

"As much as I enjoy an assertive man, stop flirting with me. I am a married man."

"Who’s on a break."

"Who loves his wife."

"I love your wife too. That’s why I am putting up with you. So shut up and focus, ok?"

Emiliano scrunched his nose and scoffed, like something had personally offended his very existence.

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, expression twisted in exaggerated disdain.

I didn’t ask.

I knew it was "I love your wife too" that got to him.

I just noted it and kept going.

"Blackmail of Akna Pharmaceuticals."

"An exaggeration."

"Walk me through it."

"I just had a little conversation with Killian. That’s all."

"You used your pheromones, haven’t you?"

"Well, my wife’s plaything should know his place. I am the husband after all."

"Ex-husband."

"Still better than ex-boyfriend, Mister Lawyer."

"Whatever helps you process Luther dumping you, blondie."

Emiliano scoffed, the sound low and sharp, laced with clear annoyance.

His jaw tensed slightly, and he looked off to the side, as if the room itself was starting to test his patience.

"So? What’s the next strategy, Mister Big Bad Lawyer?"

"It might ruin your reputation underground."

"Oh?"