A plan

"They're not gonna stop."

The quiet statement wakes Alessa from her half-slumber, and she looks up at you with curious eyes.

Your expression, by contrast, is dead serious. "The people who hired those thugs. They're not gonna stop until I cave."

Alessa frowns and places her right hand on your bare chest, her left hand's fingers laced with yours. "I'm doing what I can to fix it."

Your head shakes. "It's not enough, and that's no fault of yours. I almost died today because we were separated." You almost wince at the way she tightens her grip on your hand. "Those two might not have mentioned any names, but I think we both know who's behind this."

She frowns deeper. "And if there's anything I've learned on the ****, it's that rich, entitled assholes always get what they want."

"Thus, we need a new plan."

Alessa chews her lower lip curiously and rolls onto her side, staring thoughtfully off into the distance. It occurs to you that if you were an artist, this would be the perfect pose to sketch her in.

"I have an idea," she says suddenly.

You perk up. "I'm all ears."

A smirk tugs at Alessa's mouth. "We go back to the scene of the crime."

Your brows furrow. "Aaaand how is that supposed to help?"

"Your witness statement claimed a very different story from what Janna told my coworkers, more specifically that she was already there with a group of men, and went red-faced as soon as she saw you."

You arch an eyebrow. "So?"

"So what if there's something more going on here than just the typical rich asshole douchebaggery?"

Your eyes stare at her blankly. "I'm sorry, I don't follow."

"Janna's sealed records. I finally figured out what she almost got pegged for."

"And?" you ask excitedly.

Just then, Alessa gives you a dangerous smile. "Possession with intent to distribute."

Your steel-gray eyes widen almost comically. "Are you--how the hell did she get out of that one?"

"Daddy's money, of course. Scaled down to misdemeanor possession, despite the seized contraband being well over the mass limit."

"Can we expose that?"

"Theoretically, yes, but..." she chews her lower lip.

You arch a questioning eyebrow. "But?"

"There may have been an um...wrinkle."

Your expression sharpens. "What wrinkle?"

She scratches the top of her head. "The uh...means by which I acquired that information. Because basically every judge in the city is on their payroll, getting one of them to cave and unseal those records was a touch difficult."

Your brows furrow. "How'd you pull it off then?"

Alessa shifts uncomfortably. "I uh...I might have...fucked the judge."