Loving The Lawyer (18+)

By Satansfavoffspring

1.2M 22K 7.4K

⚠️18+⚠️ *I added smut, heavy smut* Disclaimer-I started this when I was eleven, almost twelve so this is in n... More

Revamp
Characters
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8 (Updated)
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23 (updated)
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Meet Me At Midnight Is Finally Out!!
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50 (Epilogue)
SMUT!!!
Chi Sono?
NEW STORY IS OUT!
Summoning All My Queens

Meet Me At Midnight Sneak Peak

14.2K 159 41
By Satansfavoffspring

"Midnight," Elio breathes as he studies the black and white image of himself, clutched in his right hand. A moment ago when he walked into his office with his team behind him; he noticed a picture and a note pinned by a dagger to the oakwood desk. She didn't have to sign the note for him to know it was Midnight. Her infamous M/O was enough to send shivers of fear down the spines of anyone. No matter how fearless you think you are, no matter how untouchable you are, no matter how much you think you can run from her; you can't. Once you're marked by Midnight you'll be dead within the next twenty-four hours.

"You've been marked," Malia, Elios' explosives expert gasps out in shock.

"Yes," He confirms. "Although, for some reason I don't feel as if she wants to kill me." Seeing their looks he adds. "Not now, at least."

"What do you mean?" Alessio, his head of security asks. "You know how it works with Midnight. Once you're marked you'll be dead by next evening."

"The note," He says sliding the note across the smooth desk towards his team. "They say you know when you're about die. You have a feeling. No matter how much you crave death, no matter if you wish it upon yourself; you know. For me, I'm not afraid of dying I've felt the presence of death far to many times. I don't feel like I did when I was shot in Bangkok. I don't feel like I did when my father attempted to assassinate me. I don't feel anything."

"Perhaps you feel nothing because you've accepted death," Davina, his weapons specialist remarks. "You have welcomed death far too many times. You don't fear dying. You've embraced it."

"No," Says Damien, his right hand and the most intelligent person Elio has ever met besides her. "The quote Midnight used talks about life going on. She is either mocking the fact that she will be killing you in the very near future or she is saving your life. The quote could mean someone is after you and beseeched of her assistance to take care of the job and she left this as a warning to watch your back."

"Damien have you lost your mind?" Davina asks her brother seriously. He quirks his right brow at her question. "Midnight is ruthless. She kills with no mercy, she'll kill anyone no questions asked. The woman is a legend for a reason. She has and will never leave a target breathing."

"No, Davina I have not lost my mind." Damien huffs. "It's just a theory. I've never seen her mark in person, but I've also never heard of her leaving anything other than the picture. This is a message of some sort."

"I completely agree," Adrian, Elios' hacker says.

"As do I," Malia and Alessio say in unison.

"Robert Frost," Elio muses. "The worlds deadliest woman enjoys poetry."

"Indeed I do," A voice says to the left of him. All seven heads, including his sharply turn towards the balcony where a woman dressed in a black trench coat and a fedora leans against his open balcony door. Her head is angled down so the only thing visible is her tan sharp angular cheekbones, her blood red lips and her thick black hair. Hair so black the black hole would be jealous.

"You'll look at me when you speak," Elio commands in a deadly calm tone. She throws her head back and laughs. He glimpses a black lace mask covering the upper half of her face. Her eyes shine bright with amusement, overshadowing the pain and emptiness her eyes are rumored to hold.

"I'm sorry," She speaks once she recovers from her fit of laughter. "I just find it amusing you think I'll give into your commands." She pauses to put her hands in her coat pocket. The team on high alert put their hands subtly on their guns. Midnight notices the movement, but pays no mind to it. "The only time I'll look at you when I speak is when the life is draining out of your eyes by my hand."

The room is silent. Not a single sound is heard.

"Fortunately, for you that won't be for a long time." The corner of her mouth tilts slightly, not enough to be qualified as a smile. "Scruffy, is right; the note I left is a message and I will continue to leave you a message everyday until I decide to kill you." She slowly walks backwards to the ledge of the balcony. "Now all you have to do is figure out that message." She gracefully hops onto the ledge of the balcony. "Have a nice rest of your evening, ladies and gentlemen." And with those parting words she falls backwards off the ledge.

Alessio, Malia, and Davina run to the ledge, looking down trying to find where she went while Adriano, Damien, and Elio stood dumbfounded, trying to wrap their heads around what just happened.

"Scruffy," Damien hisses. "She called me scruffy."

Davina, Alessio, and Malia come back from the balcony just as Vincenzo and Mia walk through the office doors. Mia frowns when she notices the expressions of her friends.

"What the hell did we miss?" She questions.

"Oh you know, just your everyday death threat." Adriano shrugs as if it's no big deal.

"Was it the Columbians?" Vincenzo asks.

"We don't know," Elio holds up the picture for them to see. Vincenzo and Mia gasp in unison. "Midnight just payed us-me a little visit. Damien will explain everything I need to kill some people." He sighs before starting towards the office door.

"Wait!" Mia shouts. Elio stops in his tracks with his hand on the door knob. He doesn't bother to turn around as she continues. "Don't you want to know whether you're having a niece or nephew?" Elio turns around. Vincenzo and Mia now have the rooms undivided attention.

"We're having a girl!" She says excitedly as tears stream down her cheeks. Davina and Malia engulf her in a hug as Adriano punches Vincenzo in the jaw. Alessio rushes to check on him as Damien and Elio stand still not knowing what to do.

"First you knock my sister up!" Adriano seethes. "And with a girl imagine the amount of people we are going to have to kill for looking at her inappropriately." His eyes widen in realization before a smile graces his features. "Imagine all the little dicks I'll get to cut off. Oh I love you, Zozo! Thank you for knocking my sister up!" He gushes going in for a hug. Vincenzo pushes him away in disgust as they all laugh at Adriano's antics.

Adriano goes in for another hug, this time successfully succeeding. "Get off of me you fat fuck!"

"Mia!" Adriano whines. "Tell your baby daddy to stop being mean to me."

Mia gives Adriano a deadpan look. "Did you not just punch my baby daddy in the face?"

Adriano smiles innocently. "That's ancient history just like your baby daddy." Adriano lowers his voice to a whisper. "You had to pick the old man?"

"I'm only thirty-two," Vincenzo protests.

"Like I said old," Adriano replies. "Once you hit thirty you're old."

"You do realize you will be 'old' soon, right?" Vincenzo deadpans.

"I got six years," Adriano dismisses.

*****

Sitting at the bar, sipping a whiskey as she plays chess with one of her regulars. Mr. James Stevens was her favorite person in the world. He knows what she does, he knows the type of person she is and he willingly for almost three years now still comes to the speakeasy to see her every night. He was one of her first customers. Last month he passed down his billion dollar company to his son and now claims seeing her is the highlight of his day.

"My Dear," Mr. Stevens sighs. "Your heart isn't in the game. What's bothering you?"

Mr. Stevens can tell when something is bothering Midnight. Despite only knowing her for three years and not even knowing her true name; he has a better bond with her than he does with his own two children. He considers Midnight the daughter he always wished he had.

Of course he loved his biological daughter, but even he could admit she is not the sharpest tool in the shed and can be a little bit of a floozy. With Midnight he could talk business, literature, history, money, jewelry, etc and an added bond is she always has the best gossip. Being friends with the woman who knows everything and everyone has its perks.

"Isn't the saying your head isn't in the game, old man?" She quirks a brow.

He chuckles. "Indeed it is, but right now your heart isn't in the game."

"I don't have a heart," She whispers. She hasn't for a long time. Five years ago she sold her soul to the devil to become who she is. Five years ago she left her old life behind to start a new one, a better one. She wasn't the same weak little girl who hid in the shadows of others. Now she is the strong woman who hides in the shadows. Ironic isn't it? She still hides in the shadows.

"Yes, my dear, you do have a heart. You just haven't found the one to touch it yet." Mr. Stevens places his hand on hers. A risky move. If it was anyone else they would be on the floor dead in a puddle of their own blood. But this was Mr. Stevens, the man who she considers a father.

"Today," She starts. "I saw someone, someone I haven't seen in a very long time."

"Do you have to kill them?" Mr. Stevens asks curiously.

"No, not unless given a reason to." She replies immediately, while examining the chess board.

"Ahh," Mr. Stevens moves his queen threes spaces to the left. "And here I thought you didn't have morales."

"I have Morales, old man." She states. "I don't kill children and I don't kill pregnant women." That's not entirely true. She has killed a couple teenagers, they were both involved in human trafficking, along with their fathers. Midnight hates sick little twisted shits like that and the fact that one of them was a sixteen year old girl doing it to other children much younger than herself disgusts her.

She doesn't care how old, disabled, or sick in the head your are, if you rape or beat another person she will put a bullet in your fucking skull. Rape and abuse is one thing she will never tolerate.

She moves her queen five spaces to the left and announces. "Checkmate." Mr. Stevens sighs as he takes a sip of his Merlot. She can't for the life of her understand how this man or anyone enjoys wine. She finds it repulsive, the flavor, the color however she loves. Red, the color of blood, her favorite color. Everything she owns consists of three colors; black, white, and red.

"Congratulations, My dear, you won, again."

"I'm starting to entertain the thought that perhaps you let me win," She suggests. Midnight finds it quite peculiar a chess champion of Saint Andrew's Academy loses to a woman with up until three years ago had no experience in the game of chess.

He chuckles. "My dear, I had not played chess for thirty years prior to meeting you. I'm a tad rusty and you are you." She looks at him with a quizzical expression."What do you mean, 'you are you."'

He sighs and gives her a deadpan look. "Midnight, you are the most intelligent woman I've ever met. Your IQ is through the roof. You speak twelve languages. You can disable a government security system in less than twenty-four hours, need I go on?" He clutches his chest and takes a deep breath. "My point is there is nothing you can not do. You are the epitome of a perfect person, a robot if you will."

Midnight makes a deep noise in the back of her throat, one that could be classified as a scoff. "A robot who kills people for a living." He grins, cheekily. "What else do robots do?" She lets out a laugh. Mr. Stevens always knows how to make her feel better. He is not just her first customer, he is her best friend, her confidant, and the only father figure she's ever known. He knows everything about her except her name, of course. He knows about her upbringing. He knows her deepest darkest secrets. And what she loves the most about him is; he doesn't judge her.

"And for the record," She takes a sip of whiskey. "I can't cook."

*****

Damn, I've been wanting to release this story for so long and now it feels so surreal that it's coming out next month. I don't have an exact release date, but for sure after Valentines day. I have five chapters so far and will release the first three of them.

Anyways this book will be in a third person point of view and will be a little bit more formal in the wording, therefore the chapters may take a bit longer to write. I want it to depict the mafia as close as I can so there may be some things you won't agree with in the book but I will add trigger warnings.
SC🖤

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