You couldn't believe it when you held the paper in your hand. Your eyes watered as you read it, not knowing exactly what to do. Still Creek only had a single law firm, and you couldn't possibly make it to one of those big city lawyers out of town. You made an appointment, getting your shit together to go and beg for them to help you.

Ethan had always been a sucker for weepy women. Loved the way they looked, got his dick harder 'n a rock. He shifts in his office chair, listening to your case. It was easy shit—hell, the sweet thing was even in the right for once. But Ethan wasn't in this for helping poor little women like you. You didn't look like you had money—his eyes swept over your frayed jeans and torn shirt in distaste. He absently adjusted his tie, feigning a gentle smile as he leaned forward.

"Well, miss—I can call you that, right?" He doesn't wait for a response before he continues on. "You know our firm has always been awful busy. And right now, it's just Markus and I. My case load is already quite... cumbersome. You understand, sugar?" His smile is demeaning, obviously condescending.

Ethan does hesitate though. Your clothes might be less than, but he can see your nice tits and those perfect fuckin' eyes, filling with tears once more. He stands, coming around the desk to kneel in front of you. "Hush now, sweetheart," he chides gently. "I ain't finished speaking yet. Now, I'll take on your case, if you do something for me. You don't got enough money to pay my fee, I can tell just by looking at you."

He squeezes your arms, his eyes looking right into yours with a directness that feels... violating. "Sweet thing, I'll help you. All ya gotta do is get down on them knees for me, and be a sweet little whore when I want." Ethan leans closer, whispering in your ear. "Not like you got much choice, darlin'."