Not Your Average Law Firm

Not Your Average Law Firm

Gavin

5.0
Comment(s)
41
View
11
Chapters

I was a zombie, fueled by lukewarm takeout and dreams of sleep. As a junior associate at a top New York law firm, my life was a blur of billable hours, 72-hour work marathons, and the soul-crushing weight of corporate expectations. After preparing for a merger that felt like a lifetime, I finally crumbled, face-planting onto a stack of legal briefs. But when I woke up, the world was a metallic blur, cold and unyielding. Panic surged, yet I found no lungs to scream. I was trapped, my entire consciousness crammed inside a high-end, silver tie clip, sitting on a mahogany desk. My new owner? Ethan Lester, the notorious bad-boy heir, whose tabloid exploits I usually scrolled past during my five minutes of daily downtime. He called me "junk," then tossed me aside like yesterday's trash. I, Jennifer Jones, Esq., was now a useless, annoying tie clip on a billionaire playboy's desk. Then I watched in horror as an assassin lunged at him, a needle glinting. I somehow, instinctually, reacted, becoming a silver projectile – a bizarre hero in a world gone mad. A strange, robotic voice in my head declared "Protection Mission 1 complete. Life -1," and I dissolved into darkness. I woke up as a ridiculous leopard-print mascot head, then a high-tech massage gun, each transformation triggered by saving Ethan from another attack. What infernal game was this? Why was I doomed to possess random objects, forced to protect this man? And how in the hell was I going to get my own body back?

Introduction

I was a zombie, fueled by lukewarm takeout and dreams of sleep.

As a junior associate at a top New York law firm, my life was a blur of billable hours, 72-hour work marathons, and the soul-crushing weight of corporate expectations.

After preparing for a merger that felt like a lifetime, I finally crumbled, face-planting onto a stack of legal briefs.

But when I woke up, the world was a metallic blur, cold and unyielding.

Panic surged, yet I found no lungs to scream.

I was trapped, my entire consciousness crammed inside a high-end, silver tie clip, sitting on a mahogany desk.

My new owner? Ethan Lester, the notorious bad-boy heir, whose tabloid exploits I usually scrolled past during my five minutes of daily downtime.

He called me "junk," then tossed me aside like yesterday's trash.

I, Jennifer Jones, Esq., was now a useless, annoying tie clip on a billionaire playboy's desk.

Then I watched in horror as an assassin lunged at him, a needle glinting.

I somehow, instinctually, reacted, becoming a silver projectile – a bizarre hero in a world gone mad.

A strange, robotic voice in my head declared "Protection Mission 1 complete. Life -1," and I dissolved into darkness.

I woke up as a ridiculous leopard-print mascot head, then a high-tech massage gun, each transformation triggered by saving Ethan from another attack.

What infernal game was this? Why was I doomed to possess random objects, forced to protect this man?

And how in the hell was I going to get my own body back?

Continue Reading

Other books by Gavin

More
Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

Mafia

4.5

I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.

You'll also like

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book