I'm in the same room as the devil—and he has the key.
From the moment I sat down across the table from him.
From the moment his eyes looked right through my clothes.
I knew I was in trouble.
Preston Osbourne was everything wrong with this place: a cocky biker unrepentant about his crimes, a womanizer who's had more hot girls than hot dinners, and a criminal 100% guilty of murder.
Oh, and did I mention that I'm the unlucky lawyer who has to defend him as my first real case?
He's not interested in anything I have to say to him.
He's not interested in making a deal.
And with every second that passes, it becomes crystal clear:
The only thing he's interested in is to hear me scream.
