Chapter Twelve
“Hello, ladies and gentlemen of the jury. Over the course of this trial, the defense is going to use a barrage of illusions to trick you into freeing a guilty man,” Nancy Schwartz began her opening statement, while leaning on the jury box and pointing one finger toward Kasheef. “They will hold no punches as they try to paint a lovely portrait on a dilapidated, cold, brick wall. They may even try to bring up the past of a little boy raised in an urban environment who had no choice but to adapt to his surroundings. Let me put this question in your mind before all of this even begins. What does any of that have to do with a murder? Upbringing, charity contributions, or any other tool that the defense tries to use has nothing to do with murder. They are just distractions. Good distractions, I might add. As a matter of fact, let’s give a preemptive round of applause to the defense right now for their creativity.” Nancy Schwartz walked straight over to the defense table and stood directly in front of Kasheef. She clapped her hands loudly before turning her attention back to the jury. “You see, ladies and gentlemen, Ms. Rose here is a very skilled magician, who has made many charges disappear for many known criminals.”
Carmen smirked, but did not interrupt. She knew that the DA would be pulling out all stops in trying this case. This was Carmen’s first big case, and the DA was trying to make it seem like Carmen had defended John Gotti or someone. Nancy Schwartz was declaring war on Kasheef and she wanted to draw first blood. She wanted to be inside of the heads of the jurors, but she would have to do much better if she wanted to intimidate Carmen. Carmen tapped her pen against the desk and listened on.
“Don’t let her turn this trial into another one of her magic shows. Over the next couple of weeks, the state will present you with the facts. We will give you an eyewitness’ account of what occurred on the night of March 21, 2008. A courageous young woman, who can identify the killer of Mizan Simmons, has agreed to share with you her account of what happened that night. There can only be one person to blame, and the state will prove that person to be Kasheef Williams. Mr. Williams is the one responsible for the murder. It is his fault that a little girl will grow up without a father. It is his fault that a mother had to bury her son. It was at his hands that this tragic murder took place, and now it is in your hands to bring him to justice. It is your responsibility to right this wrong.” District Attorney Schwartz gave Kasheef a smug look before she took her seat. Kasheef shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
He leaned over to Carmen, “Who the fuck is she looking at like that?”
Carmen grabbed his arm and squeezed it gently. “Don’t worry about it. I got this.”
Kasheef turned around and scanned the crowd. Norelle sat directly behind him as if it were her place to be by his side. He gazed past her when he noticed Alija sitting in the last row of the room. He winked his eye and saw her smile, then turned back around.
It was Carmen’s turn to deliver her opening statement. She was a woman determined as she approached the jury looking fly as ever. Her long, tailored, tan Dolce pencil skirt, a highrise design, stopped right below her bust line. She wore a silk tan blouse with a ruffled neckline and a sleeveless tan vest to accent her outfit. Her Giuseppe stilettos click-clacked against the floor as she walked.
“Hello, ladies and gentleman of the jury, how are you all doing today?” she asked with a genuine smile. She decided to take the lay-back approach with her jury of mostly women. She quickly scanned the faces of the jury. Two white women, five black women, one Hispanic woman, three white men, and one black man could either make or break her entire career. All that she had worked hard for was riding on this.
“I am here to set the record straight. Mr. Kasheef Williams is not a criminal, nor is he a threat to our society. In fact, the DA is right. He has contributed thousands of dollars to local charities and even political figures. In fact, I believe Mr. Williams contributed $50,000 to Judge Martin’s campaign when he was up for judicial election.” Carmen turned toward the judge, who turned beet red at the public revelation. Several members of the jury chuckled, and Carmen continued. “He’s never been in trouble a day of his life. It seems to me like he would work his way up to something as big as murder!” she said incredulously. “You know? Give him a little bit of practice. Maybe commit a couple robberies, get himself an aggravated assault charge . . . something. Murderers are not made overnight,” she argued.
“Kasheef Williams is a law-abiding citizen who does not have the stealth or the malice in him to commit a crime of this magnitude. He’s had no practice. No priors whatsoever. He is simply the wrong man, and while the state is here wasting your tax dollars, the real killer is roaming free around our city streets. The district attorney can call me a magician and try to put all of these biases into your heads to help her case, but the truth is I represent the underdogs. I speak for those who can not speak up for themselves; the men and women who would otherwise be trampled on and punished for crimes that they were not responsible for. All I’m asking you is to keep an open mind while you are hearing this case. Don’t let the state make your decision for you. This is someone’s future you are playing with. Be 100 percent sure that the man before you is your murderer. If you feel like he’s the perpetrator of this crime, then by all means, convict him. If you have even the slightest sliver of doubt that leads you to believe that something just doesn’t quite add up, then you are obligated by law to let my client go. None of my so-called magic is needed here. The only thing I need from you, ladies and gentleman, is an open mind. An open mind is all you need to render a fair and just verdict. I can assure you that Mr. Williams is innocent. Now I just have to get you all to see the innocence in this man that I see.”
The first day of the trial went by quickly. Both sides went through the coroner’s report of the body. The short man sat on the stand and gave a detailed account of the decomposition of Mizan’s body once it had been recovered from the river. The prosecution used gory details to horrify the jurors and played the sympathy card by reminding them of the family that Mizan had left behind. Carmen could tell that Kasheef was concerned about the effect that the coroner was having on the jury, because his body was tense and his usually calm demeanor was now anxious as he tapped his foot against the floor.
When it was time for cross-examination, Carmen arose from her seat and walked over to the coroner. “Was there any evidence left on the body that would indicate that Mizan Simmons contributed to his own death?” Carmen asked.
“Well, there was a small trace of gun powder on the deceased’s hands,” the coroner replied.
“So the victim was not as heroic and innocent as the prosecution is making him out to be. There are no gun permits registered in Mizan Simmons’ name. So it may be safe to say that the shooter, whoever he maybe, could have been protecting him or herself from the deceased,” Carmen said.
“That is very possible,” the coroner replied.
“No further questions, Your Honor,” Carmen said, and then returned to the defense table.
Both sides went back and forth for a few hours before court ended for the day. Kasheef, exhausted and more worried than ever, retired to his hotel room for the remainder of the day. He lay in bed with his hands behind his head. He thought of his trial as he felt the stress build in his shoulders. He couldn’t ask for a better lawyer. Carmen was great and was doing a damned good job, but there was only so much that she could do. The prosecution had it out for him. They portrayed him to be this horrible monster and he could see their words taking their toll on the jury already. They wanted a bad guy and Kasheef was it.
A small knock at the door interrupted his thoughts and he walked somberly over to it. When he opened it up, Alija stood before him in a black BCBG jogging suit that hugged every curve of her voluptuous body.
“Hi,” she said in a low voice. “I just came to check on you. I could tell by the look on your face that you weren’t happy in there today. I thought you could use a friend.” Alija smiled half-heartedly as she looked up at Kasheef.
Kasheef moved to the side to let her in, but peeked his head into the hallway to be sure no one had seen her come to his room.
“Don’t worry, I made sure I was low key,” she said, knowing that they were not supposed to be associating with each other. “Now, what was wrong today? Tell me what’s on your mind.”
“They are trying to put the noose around my neck.”
“Why are you so worried? she asked. “You have the entire thing in the palm of your hands.”
“I know, but when I’m sitting in that courtroom I feel like I’m choking,” he admitted. Being vulnerable in front of other people was something that Kasheef did not do often. He was surprised that he was opening up to Alija in the way that he was. “How’s li’l mama doing?”
“She’s good. I went to see her after I left the court house. She’s still not ready to come home, though.”
He walked over to sit down on his bed. With his face buried in his hands, he sighed deeply. Alija was shocked at this new connection she felt with Kasheef. He was her enemy, but here she was in his room. She was beginning to view him as one of the only friends she had. One of the only people who could understand what she was going through. If he only knew, she thought regretfully. She sat down next to him. “Everything will be fine. We just have to get through this. Once this is over we can go our separate ways,” she said.
“What if I don’t want that?” he asked as he turned his head to look at her.
Tears filled her eyes and she willed them away, but didn’t respond. She wrapped her arms around herself as if she were cold. “I don’t think you know what you want, Kasheef. Not long ago you wanted me dead . . . now you’re saying you want me here with you? I think you’re just alone right now and you think that I’m what you are looking for. You just found out all that stuff about your girlfriend and you are searching for a quick replacement; someone who you can trust. Or maybe you just want to play with my head and get involved with me because of our agreement. I don’t know what is up with you, but if you think I am who you want or what you want in a woman, believe me, I’m not. You have no idea who I am. You don’t know anything about my past or what I’m capable of. I will be nothing but heartbreak for you.”
“I’ve been alone my entire life, ma. I just see something in you. When I look at you, I respect you and I have never felt that way about anyone. I can kick it with you, nah mean? I see you with your daughter and it just feels right. It all feels right when I’m with you,” he admitted.
“But it would be so wrong,” Alija whispered as she touched Kasheef’ face. If it had been under different circumstances, she may have given him a chance, but the way that their paths had crossed would forever haunt her. She just could not take it there. She could not allow herself to. “I have to be honest with you. You scare me. Just the way that we met and–”
Kasheef cut her off. “I would never hurt you.”
“My heart seems to know that. I mean, for these past few days you have been the only person I can talk to, but my mind . . . my mind is telling me that not too long ago, you wanted me dead. What if I had not gotten away from your goons that night?” she asked as she stared into his face. “I would be dead and quite possibly my daughter would be dead.”
The way Kasheef looked at her as she spoke caused her to blush. He stared at her so intensely that she had to break his gaze. He intimidated her. “That was then,” Kasheef whispered as he brought his face toward hers. She pulled away, he pulled her back . . . taking control of her, commanding her to come nearer until their lips touched. He kissed her slowly. “Now I’ll kill anybody who tries to bring harm to you,” he said as her gently sucked her bottom lip into his mouth.
Alija resisted, putting her hands up against his chest and pushing him away. “No, this isn’t right . . . you’re not for me,” she whispered, but the softness of Kasheef’s full lips drew her back in each time she pulled away.
“I’m sorry, ma,” he said to her repeatedly as he kissed her smoothly, his voice like a classic melody to her ears as she gave into him with regret. “I’m sorry . . . I need you. Don’t tell me no.
Aljia’s heart raced as she returned his kisses passionately, their tongues intertwining like a slow dance. “Kasheef,” she moaned, knowing that she should stop. This was not a part of her plan. He was getting to her, and he was a completely different person than what she had first expected.
“Shh!” he said as he pulled her shirt over her head. His kisses trailed from her mouth to her neck to her hard, dark pearls as he moved from one breast to the other, circling her erect nipples with his tongue as he palmed them softly.
Alija’s back arched and Kasheef stood, then picked her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist. The womanly crease between her legs was soaked in anticipation. Kasheef’s hands massaged her round behind and his fingertips melted into her skin, causing a wave of pleasure to pulsate through her body. He put her on her feet and reached down into her pants. When he brought his fingers out they were dripping wet. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said as she backed toward the door. Kasheef watched her walk away, and as she turned to open the door he, came up behind her and closed it, pinning his body against hers.
“Don’t leave, ma,” he whispered in her ear, then planted kisses on the back of her neck. She closed her eyes, her hand still on the door handle. “Make love to me, ma.”
“No,” she answered softly, her eyes closing as she felt his hands on her body.
“Stay,” he coaxed.
“No,” she moaned as she felt his hand palm her soaking love box through her jeans. It felt so good that her breath caught in her throat.
“Yes,” he whispered as he turned her around, looking her in her steamy bedroom eyes. “Say yes.”
“No,” she whispered as she reignited their kiss.
Kasheef removed her pants and picked her up by her behind, her legs wrapping around him again.
“Say yes for Daddy,” he commanded.
“Yes,” she finally moaned. He lay her down on the bed, where she spread her legs and invited him into her warmth. He filled her up with ease. Her walls contracted against the width and size of his manhood. Her fingernails dug into his back as their bodies moved in unison to an inaudible beat. Kasheef rolled into her gently, and she matched him thrust for thrust.
He admired her while he sexed her body. He had never had a sexual experience like the one he was having right now. His emotions were attached to his actions. He felt something for Alija, and because he had never loved another person in his life he could not say that love was what he was feeling. He just knew that it was different. It was better.
He kissed her nose, her forehead, her collarbone; any place that his eyes graced his lips followed. She was perfect. Every inch of her body, of her soul, of her heart was perfect. It wasn’t that she was without flaws, but he was blind to them. She had a few stretch marks here and there just like every other chick in America, and her attitude could match that of a lioness, but to him these things were flawless. He did not want to change a single thing about her. To another man she may not have been the total package, but Kasheef was finally realizing that when you find the one person who was built for you, you are blind to their imperfections. Alija was the perfection and companionship that he had been searching for his entire life. The same way that he had fallen in love with her baby daughter while she was sick in the hospital, he was falling in love with Alija, who was now beneath him in his bed.
Their passion intensified. A slow grind became a fast pace as their carnal passion took control. Kasheef felt the tension building up in his toes.
Alija moaned, “Kasheef, I’m cumming.”
“Me too, ma, me too,” he whispered as he plunged in and out of her honey pot while she dug her nails deep into his muscular behind. “Ooh shit,” he whispered. Alija had to have the best pussy ever. He closed his eyes and slowed down while going in as deep as his tool would take him.
“Kasheef!” she moaned as her body shuddered. He felt her warm, womanly fluids break through her dam and flood onto his shaft. The feeling was so incredible. It was so warm and wet that he reached his peak and came with her.
Exhaustion wreaked her body and Alija inhaled deeply as she tried to catch her breath. She could not believe what she had just done. The heat of the moment had taken her life in a direction she had never anticipated. She could feel a tear slide down her cheek, and Kasheef wiped it away while looking her into her eyes. They were deep with emotion, and he felt as if he could stare at her forever.
He opened his mouth to speak, but Alija silenced him with her finger. She shook her head and said, “Don’t. Don’t say anything to ruin the moment. Just hold me. We’ve only known each other for a few days . . . so this can’t be real . . . so please don’t say anything. Just be here in this moment.”
Kasheef couldn’t stop staring into her eyes. He felt lost, and in her eyes he found the path that he should take. He lay down and brought her into his arms. Just being in the same room with Alija was like playing with fire. If the state knew that the two had been in contact, they would charge him with witness intimidation, and no matter what Alija said on the stand, people would think he coerced her testimony. Kasheef could feel the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed deeply. The rhythm of her heartbeat was soothing to his damaged soul. He didn’t know what she was thinking or what would become of them, but he did know that he cared for the woman lying in his arms, and if he had his way he would never let her go.
***
Daylight came peeking through the curtains of the hotel and Alija stirred from her peaceful slumber. She was still wrapped in Kasheef’s arms and she reluctantly slid from underneath him. What am I doing? she thought frantically. I’m not supposed to catch feelings for this man. Where are my clothes? She found her belongings neatly folded and placed inside one of the drawers of the armoire. She tiptoed as quietly as she could around the room, and slipped into her outfit from the night before. Finding a pen and paper on the nightstand, she left Kasheef a note.
I can t do this with you. I wish that I could, because no man has ever made my body feel the way that you did last night, but it is not right. I know that you don’t understand, but just trust me. Everyone involved would just end up getting hurt.
She didn’t sign her name, and left the note on the vacant pillow in Kasheef’s bed. She kicked herself all the way to her room. Now she would have to keep her distance from Kasheef. She had to admit that it was hard to deny his charm. There was a swagger about him that lured her in. Every time she was around him she felt jittery, like a schoolgirl who had a huge crush, but she couldn’t fall in love . . . not with Kasheef. She picked up her cell phone and dialed Mickie’s number. Her sister answered on the first ring.
“Where have you been?” Mickie asked. “I came by the motel to make sure everything was all right and you weren’t there!”
“I checked out of the motel. I’m in a hotel in midtown,” Alija explained.
“Midtown?” Mickie questioned. “Bitch, where did you get Midtown money from?”
“Never mind all that. You’re not supposed to be coming to see me, Mick! Don’t fuck this up!” Alija yelled the words as she sobbed into the phone. She was overwhelmed, and she just needed her life back.
“Whoa! What the hell is wrong with you?” Mickie asked.
“Nothing, Mick. I’m sorry. I’m just tired of all of this, you know?” she asked. “I called you to tell you to make sure the jury was still on track. You don’t have any individuals trying to have their own opinions, do you?”
Mick smacked her lips and replied, “Girl, since when have I ever given anybody the option to have their own damn point of view? I got this. Unless you tell me differently, the jury is going to do what I say.”
“Okay, good. After this is over we are all going to be a lot richer. Kasheef is going to pay me the money after I testify,” Alija said. “So just hold on, Mick.”
“A’ight, girl. I love you.”
“Love you too,” Alija answered, and then hung up the phone.
Kasheef read the note and crumpled it in his hands. He was aware of the fear that he had instilled in Alija, but he was positive that he could erase the negative connotations that she had formed in her mind regarding him. She needed time, but that was something that he was not guaranteed. He had to have her now.
Kasheef arose from the bed and showered quickly. Court was due to reconvene in a few hours, and he had some business he needed to handle before he met up with Carmen. Clad in formal Sean John apparel, the black suit and Steve Madden shoes distinguished him. At six feet three inches, he hung a suit quite well. He went to visit his accountant who managed his money, and made sure that it was kept securely overseas. He wanted to make sure that all of his accounts were undetected by the IRS. The last thing he needed was a tax evasion charge to add to the stresses he was already dealing with. After being sure that his money was protected, he headed for Norelle’s condo.
He knocked on the door and was greeted with a smile as Norelle pulled him into her home. “Hey, you! What took you so long to come and check on me? I have been missing you,” she said. Kasheef could see how he had been blind to her true intentions. Norelle was a great actress and never broke out of character. Even now she was still acting, pretending to care for him. She was indeed a beautiful liar.
“I had a couple of things that needed to be taken care of,” he answered. “Come take a ride with me.”
Norelle grabbed her clutch purse and followed him out of the apartment. “Where are we going?”
He put his hand on the small of her back and led her to the car. He opened the passenger side door and guided her inside. “To handle this business,” he responded. “You saw how the prosecution did me yesterday. I may be going to prison and I want you to be straight. I got the money in the back seat. I’m about to take you to a bank so that you can open yourself an account and deposit it.” He made sure that he was sincere in his tone. He wanted her to trust him, and, naively, she did. Money hungry bitch, he thought as he got in his car and pulled away from the curb. He took her to a Chase bank, pulled curbside, and said, “Go ahead.”
“You’re not coming in? I don’t even know how much money this is,” she said.
“Nah, ma, I can’t come in there with you. I’m under investigation so we don’t want anybody to think that this is my money. You have to do this yourself so that you will have no traces to me. This is your cash now,” he said as he leaned in and kissed her lips. “I just want to take care of you.”
She smiled and kissed him back. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she said as she took the briefcase out of the back seat and headed into the bank.
I can t believe how stupid he is, she thought as she sashayed into the bank. She walked to the reception area where she was greeted by a banker.
“Hello, how can I help you?” he asked.
“Yes, I’d like to open an account,” she said as she set the briefcase down and popped it open, revealing the money that lay neatly inside. The banker’s eyes opened wide, and he motioned for her to come into his office. Norelle didn’t hear much of what the banker explained to her. The only thing she kept thinking about was the new life she would lead once Kasheef was locked up. After giving the banker her personal information like address and social security number, they counted the money, which totaled $400,000. She intended on adding the rest of the money that she had originally stolen from Kasheef’s safe, and would have more than a half million dollars. A wicked grin crossed her face as she shook hands with the eager banker. She walked back out to the car, where Kasheef waited with his seat leaned back and one hand propped on the steering wheel.
“You get it done?” he asked.
“Yeah, it’s all taken care of,” she replied. She hopped into the car and he pulled away, satisfied that everything had gone off smoothly. The $400,000 was a huge chunk of what he had acquired in the streets. In all, he had $2 million stashed in his accounts. He had given Norelle all of the money that he had not washed yet. He still had product on the streets, which had the potential to earn him more revenue, but he wouldn’t be able to touch that for a while. He planned on putting Stick on to his connect. After he beat this case he was going to retire and enjoy some of the dirty money he had made over the years.
“Are you ready?” Carmen asked.
Kasheef looked around the crowded courtroom. Cameras flashed in his eyes and spectators whispered speculative comments regarding his arrest, but he ignored it all. He was looking for someone in particular. He was hoping to see Alija in the back row, but she wasn’t there. Her absence caused a dampening spirit to overcome him.
“Kasheef?” Carmen called his name to get his attention. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he replied as he focused his attention toward the judge who was now entering the room.
“All rise!” the bailiff announced. “The honorable Judge Campbell Martin presiding.”
“Be seated,” the judge said.
The day’s events began with the prosecution. The district attorney arose from her seat, and one of her paralegals rolled a television stand to the middle of the room, facing it toward the jury.
“Yesterday, the defense and I bantered back and forth. You heard a lot of speculation and hearsay as to what occurred the night Mizan Simmons was shot dead. Everyone wants to know what really happened that night. The tape that you are about to view will answer all of those questions. You will see it with your own eyes,” she said. She bent down and pressed play on the VCR, and the account of what actually happened came across the screen.
Mizan’s face was clear as day as he held up an unidentifiable man. The other figure’s face could not be seen from the angle that the camera had recorded the scene. You could make out his clothing, but no facial figures. Alija’s face also was clear as day as she peeked into the room. The jury sat back and watched as what had began as a robbery ended in a murder. Nancy Schwartz turned off the tape and watched the reaction that she got from the jury. They couldn’t believe that all of this had been caught on candid tape, and that the man who had done it was still roaming free. “The young woman that you saw in that tape is willing to tell you what she saw that day. She fingered Mr. Williams. She called him out by name for the police. How can you deny that he is not the murderer?”
Carmen stood up as she watched the DA take her seat. “That tape proves nothing,” she started out. “If anything it shows the type of person that Mizan Simmons was. He initiated the chain of events that night. He had a gun of his own, which he used to threaten the figure in that tape with. The face of the murderer is not even visible, and until you hear the witness testify, you should not let this tape affect your decision. It is weak evidence, circumstantial at best.”
Carmen walked down the aisle and toward the door of the courtroom. She opened it up and in walked ten different men. They all had the same complexion as Kasheef, were the same height as him, and they all wore the same brand of designer jeans just off their waistline, and the same shirt that Kasheef had worn the night of the murder. “Judge these men from the neck down, which is the only part of the shooter that can be identified. Can you distinguish between them? The assailant had no identifiable scars or tattoos. Can you tell these men apart?” she asked persistently. “I can’t. As a matter of fact, any one of these men can be the perpetrator.”
Carmen could see the question marks going off inside of the jurors’ heads. That was all that she needed to do: create reasonable doubt. She turned toward the gentlemen who she had brought in and said, “Masks please.”
Each man placed a black hood over their heads making their faces unidentifiable and their bodies identical. “As you can see, ladies and gentleman, there is no way to distinguish these men from one another without having a clear view of their faces. They all look like the murderer. It could be anyone.”
Kasheef couldn’t help the sly grin that crossed his face. Carmen was slick. She had game, and it was at that moment that he realized she was worth every single red cent that he was paying her. He was more confident than ever before. Carmen had just put a major dent in the prosecution’s case. He already had Alija on his team, so all he had to do was let the case play out.
Kasheef barely listened for the remainder of the day. His mind kept drifting back to the night he had shared with Alija. Her smile, her eyes, her face were all embedded in his mind. He wondered why she had not shown up for his trial today. He didn’t know that, after seeing her attend the court sessions, the prosecution had decided that it would be best if she stayed out of sight until it was her time to speak. They did not want her there until it was absolutely necessary. Silently, he wished he could see her face. Just the fact that she sat in the back of the courtroom gave him reassurance. He turned once more to make sure that he had not missed her, but she was nowhere to be found.
Norelle sat behind him, but only because she thought everything was good between them. She was a woman who presented herself under false pretenses. Her outward beauty was magnificent, but inward she was just as ugly as the grimiest niggas in New York. While stick up kids held men up with their guns, Norelle’s weapon of choice was a combination of good looks and good pussy. Kasheef shook his head and turned back around just in time to hear the judge adjourn the trial for the day.
Kasheef stood and buttoned the top button of his coat. He leaned in and kissed Carmen professionally on the cheek and whispered, “Good job today, ma. Once this is over I owe you dinner a’somethin’.”
“I eat lobster and steak,” she replied with a smile. “Let’s hope tomorrow is just as successful.” She gathered her paperwork, walked out of the courtroom, and bypassed reporters as she hopped into the Lincoln Town Car that awaited her curbside.
She headed toward her office. She had a lot of reading to do on other cases. Since taking on Kasheef as a client she had been neglecting her other responsibilities in the office. She knew that it was important for the senior board members of her firm to see her as well rounded, so she needed to balance all of her case trials successfully. With Alija on their team now, and the excellent cross-examinations she herself was presenting, she was confident that the win was in the bag. All of her hard work was paying off. She was finally moving up the corporate ladder. It did not bother her that she was riding Kasheef’s criminal wave to the top. As long as I get there, she thought as she cruised the city streets. I’ll be the youngest senior partner and the first black woman to achieve that at the firm, she thought proudly. Losing was not an option; she was determined to win . . . by any means necessary.