The Trade

The Trade

The Tall Cool One "Are you lost?" Alexis frowned in irritation at the stranger gazing out her office windows as though he was in his own home. Damon Corinthos turned, offering an easy smile to the attorney. "If you're Alexis Davis, then no, I'm not lost."

With a casual manner, Damon took a seat in one of the plush leather chairs near her desk. "Please, sit down." Alexis let out an exasperated chuckle, tossing her briefcase onto her desk. "Who are you and what are you doing here? You have ten seconds before this little button is pushed and security takes you away."

Her finger poised, Damon flashed another smile. "My name is Damon Corinthos and I'm here to ensure your daughter never knows her Father. Her real Father," he emphasized with cool eyes. Any facade she had vanished at Damon's carefully chosen words. Abruptly her eyes narrowed, her expression hard. Arrogantly, his gaze met hers evenly as she studied his visage closely. "What do you want?" she finally stated in a low, deadly voice. Admiring the woman's quiet fierceness that now radiated from her, he was reminded of his own Mother's pathetic unwillingness to do the same for him. Swallowing at the bitter pain, he cleared his throat. "I want your representation in a murder trial. If it comes to that point, I mean." Curiosity flashed briefly in the attorney's eyes. "Who am I defending?" A smile played about Damon's lips. "Me."

Alexis pursed her lips. "Who have you killed?" she asked dryly, reaching for her glasses. "Nobody," Damon replied casually. Alexis stilled momentarily before turning her attention back to Damon in confusion. "Not yet, at least," he clarified with a chilling smile. "But I will."