My husband slapped me so hard he split my lip while I was seven months pregnant, and his mother shoved me into a granite countertop until I collapsed in a pool of blood.

In the county jail’s maximum-security holding block, Carter Vance was learning what real power looked like.

He wasn't in a private cell. He wasn't given his customary telephone privileges. He wore an orange jumpsuit made of rough, scratchy cotton, his wrists raw from handcuffs, sitting on a cold stainless-steel bench next to a clogged toilet.

"Guard!" Carter screamed, rattling the heavy steel bars until his knuckles bruised. "I demand my phone call! I am an officer of the court! I have a hearing in two hours!"

A burly correctional officer strolled past, chewing a toothpick, his eyes completely bored. "Sit down, Vance. You're held on a federal detainer. No bail. No phone calls until processing is complete."

"A federal detainer?!" Carter shrieked. "This is a domestic dispute! It’s a state misdemeanor at best! My wife slipped! It was an accident!"

The cell door buzzed loudly and slid open.

Two armed federal marshals stood outside. "Carter Vance. Step out. Legal counsel is here."

Carter breathed a massive sigh of relief, smirking as he stepped into the corridor. *Finally,* he thought. *Uncle Richard handled it. They realized they crossed the line.*

He was escorted into a sterile interrogation room. But sitting across the metal table wasn't his uncle Richard.

It was Douglas Sterling—the most ruthless, expensive corporate defense attorney in the state, a man who charged two thousand dollars an hour and only represented Fortune 50 CEOs.

"Mr. Sterling!" Carter gasped, practically diving into the chair across from him. "Did Eleanor hire you? Thank God. We need to file a writ of habeas corpus immediately. The arrest was warrantless, the military intervention was an illegal deployment of federal troops under the Posse Comitatus Act—"

"Shut up, Carter," Sterling said coldly, not even looking up from his leather binder.

Carter blinked, stunned. "What?"

"I don't represent you," Sterling replied, leaning back and folding his hands over his expensive silk tie. "I represent the Board of Directors of your law firm, Vance & Hastings LLC."

"My firm?"

"As of thirty minutes ago, it is no longer your firm," Sterling said, sliding an official legal document across the table. "You have been unanimously expelled from the partnership. Your name is being chiseled off the building facade as we speak. Your equity has been frozen to cover the indemnification clauses regarding the reputational damage you have brought upon the firm."

Carter’s chest seized. "You can't do that! My name is on the lease!"

"Your uncle Richard was arrested by the FBI at 3:00 AM," Sterling continued, his voice devoid of emotion. "They found three hundred thousand dollars of unregistered cash in his home safe, along with wiretap transcripts linking your family’s firm to judicial bribery across twelve separate felony trials. Every case you have ever won is being reopened by the Department of Justice."

"No... no, no, no!" Carter’s breath came in ragged, shallow gasps. "This is Clara! That bitch orchestrated this!"

"Your wife," Sterling said, his eyes narrowing in utter disgust, "is Clara Hayes. Her father chairs the Senate Armed Services Subcommittee on Defense Appropriations. Do you have any idea what you did, Carter? You didn't just assault a pregnant woman. You assaulted the daughter of a man who makes aircraft carriers appear and disappear with a stroke of a pen."

Sterling stood up, buttoning his jacket.

"Your bank accounts have been seized under federal asset forfeiture laws. Your mother’s house is being foreclosed upon by noon because the mortgage was secured using laundered funds from your uncle's illicit accounts. You have no money, Carter. You have no firm. And when you go to trial next month, the state will be seeking attempted murder of an unborn child and aggravated assault with intent to maim."

Sterling knocked on the interrogation room door to be let out.

"Wait! Mr. Sterling, please!" Carter screamed, lunging across the table, his handcuffs clattering against the metal. "Who is representing me?! Who is my lawyer?!"

Sterling looked back over his shoulder through the viewing glass.