Billionaire Lawyer's Secretary - Chapter 35: Chapter 35

Alex glanced toward the CEO's office silently. After a while, he took Elara's hand. "Let's go."
"You're not going to try Adrian?" Elara asked.
"If he wanted this case, he wouldn't have pawned us off on Eric."
"But Dylan could get twenty years."
"Plans change. Let's go," Alex said. He steered Elara out of Anchor Law Firm and toward the underground garage where his car was parked.
Elara slid into the passenger seat and shot Adrian a text: [Mr. Hartley, enjoy the Golden Mandheling?]
Adrian took a slow sip of the Golden Mandheling Susan had just brewed and typed back: [I've trashed it.]
Elara paused. [That stuff cost a fortune.]
Adrian didn't respond. Beneath Elara's own name, the telltale "typing..." indicator flickered on.
Elara: [Busy these days, Mr. Hartley? Loads of cases?]
'Dumb questions,' Adrian thought. He only took high-profile cases now, dumping the rest on juniors. He could grind for weeks or take a month off.
As Elara switched to her polite tone, Adrian knew she was plotting something. He typed back: [Pretty swamped.]
[Got it,] Elara replied. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, about to type something more.
Just then, Alex said, "I visited my dad yesterday."
Elara stopped typing and turned to Alex. His usually handsome features were drawn and weary, probably from sleepless nights.
She set her phone aside and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "How's Dylan holding up?"
Alex lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply.
Elara paused. She knew Alex had never been a smoker, but the way he looked now suggested this wasn't just a temporary escape.
After a long silence, Alex said, "He got beaten in the detention house and ended up in hospital. Otherwise, I wouldn't have gotten anywhere near him."
"What? The Heatons did this?"
"Not sure. Nancy's looking into it."
'Nancy? So he called her first, right after everything went down. She can actually help, and I'm just... nothing. Besides, his tone sounded so intimate as he mentioned her,' Elara thought, a sharp ache twisting her gut.
She knew this wasn't the moment to get caught up in her feelings, but she just couldn't help it. Still, she kept her composure and said softly, "It'll be okay."
At Anchor Law Firm, Adrian stared at the lone "Got it" in his messages in a daze. The "typing..." indicator had popped up a minute ago, but now it was gone—no new texts.
"Mr. Hartley? You with me?" Susan waved a hand.
Adrian snapped out of it. "Huh?"
"Is the afternoon meeting with Mr. Heaton canceled or still on?"
"Canceled."
"Got it."
"How did Alex's case go?"
"Eric said the odds of winning aren't great. The prosecution has solid evidence and witnesses."
"I see."
As Susan finished her report, she was already heading out. Adrian stopped her. "Keep the afternoon meeting with Mr. Heaton on the calendar."
"Understood," Susan replied.
That afternoon, Elara went back to Tiffany Café. Alex had only taken a half-day off—after dropping her at the café, he would head straight back to work.
Her chest felt tight, but the words stuck in her throat—she wasn't good at soft talk. In the end, she just said, "Drive safe."
Alex nodded. "Okay."
Back at the café, Elara opened WhatsApp to find the chat with Adrian still up. The typing bar held a half-finished message: [Can you help with Alex's case...]
She deleted the message, figuring it was too blunt. 'With his ego and status, would he really help just because I asked? What if he got offended and withdrew even Eric's support?' she thought.
After a pause, she sent a diplomatic text: [Just got a fresh batch of ribeye. Want to swing by tonight? I'll make Beef Wellington.]
Hours passed, radio silence. Worried about seeming desperate, Elara held back from texting again. She headed to the kitchen to prep the steak instead. She'd learned a wonderful recipe at a Michelin-starred joint overseas.
Slicing a piece of beef with a chef's knife , she patted it dry, rubbed it all over with sea salt, and let it marinate for half an hour.
Next, she chopped the mushrooms and heated a drizzle of olive oil in a skillet. Once fragrant, she tossed in the mushrooms with a bit of minced garlic.
When the pan was hot, she seared the steak until a golden crust formed. Then she brushed it with a touch of mustard and smeared on the mushroom mixture. Finally, she wrapped it all in flaky pastry.
Three hours later, Elara stepped out of the kitchen with the Wellington, only to find Adrian sitting in her usual booth, a coffee already in hand. After a pause, she walked over and sat across from him.
Since he hadn't messaged, she'd only made one steak. Feeling awkward eating alone, she offered, "Want a bite, Mr. Hartley?"
Adrian smiled, "Sure."
Elara fell silent, biting back a huff and pushing the plate over.
Adrian set his phone aside and picked up utensils. Born into wealth, he moved with an effortless grace that seemed completely natural.
His hands were like something out of a magazine—veins defined, knuckles perfectly sculpted. Elara couldn't help thinking, 'Man, those hands could be hand models.'
Just then, Adrian took a bite. His Adam's apple moved as he swallowed, every motion smooth and exact.
"How is it?" Elara asked, chin propped in her palm as she drank in his looks.
Adrian's stern expression softened slightly, though he didn't give a direct compliment. "Your chef's skills are better than the barista's."
That meant the steak was better than the coffee, and Elara just took that as a compliment. Coming from Adrian, who'd dined at Veritasiton's finest, it was high praise. "Thanks. Glad you like it," she smiled.
Adrian arched a brow, catching on. "You made this yourself?"
"Yep." Elara flashed him a rare smile, her beautiful eyes sparkled with a playful glint. "Come back if you want seconds."
"Will you cook every time I stop by?" Adrian asked.
Elara was eager to please him right now, so she was unusually agreeable. "Anytime," she replied.
Adrian saw right through her act and cut to the chase. "I'm not taking Alex's case."
"Why?" Elara's fake smile dropped instantly.
Adrian caught the sharp edge in her tone, and his laid-back attitude vanished. "You don't need to know why. Eric's our most experienced criminal lawyer—no one better in Veritasiton. You should be satisfied with that," he said coldly.
"Is this just about experience? He said we can't win!"
"Then plead guilty, cooperate, get the judge on your side for a lighter sentence."
"What? Dylan's innocent!" Elara gaped. She couldn't believe Adrian's words were a carbon copy of Eric's.
"Whether he's innocent, the police will sort that out. We lawyers deal with the facts and negotiate the best possible outcome."
Elara laughed, a hint of resignation in her eyes. "It's because your family and the Heaton family go way back, right?"
"Excuse me?"
"No one dares to take this case. The others are too afraid to mess with them, but you Hartleys? You just choose not to."
Adrian set down the utensils and wiped his mouth, his appetite gone. "The Hartleys are one thing. I'm another."
"So you're not refusing the case out of family loyalty. You just don't want to help us."
"First, I owe you nothing. You deleted that tweet, so I put Eric on the case—that was already a favor. Second..." Adrian's tone turned icy. "Since when do my personal affairs concern you, Ms. Langton?"
Elara knew she was pushing. She softened, asking casually: "Can I ask you something, Mr. Hartley?"
"What?"
"Is this about your first love?"
"First love?" Adrian's face stayed blank.
"Josie."
That name wiped the indifference from Adrian's face. His eyes snapped to hers.
"Are you afraid of upsetting her?" Elara asked, her mind racing. 'If so, maybe working through Josie could be a strategic move.'
Adrian studied her. "You really did your homework. Jealous, huh?"