Legal Temptations

Misha Cross ran the place like a vice—tight, expensive, untouchable. She offered Barbie a corner office and a fast track up. Barbie took it, quick as you please, hungry for the money, the name, the glow. What she didn’t see was the ink already dry beneath it all. Alyssa Bounty drifted at Misha’s shoulder, demonic deputy with silk skin and red motives of her own. One look told her Barbie wasn’t just another hire; she was prey worth savoring. Barbie hit the ground winning. Each victory bent a little farther, rules cracked like cheap glass. Morals, Misha said, were dead weight. The higher the body count in court, the wider the door swung open to something darker waiting on the other side. The thrill soured quick. Night after night, the wins echoed wrong inside Barbie’s ribs. She needed an answer. So she stormed into Misha’s glass tower at three a.m., jacket still on. "What are we really selling here?" she snapped. Misha smiled like a cut that never closed, then peeled back the curtain. Contracts with the devil, unsigned souls, the usual rot. And a chair at the table—hers for the taking—if she could stomach the price. Barbie’s stomach turned, but the door was open and the lights inside burned low and hot. One step in and the floor already felt different under her heels.