Milf Hunter: Seducing And Taming Beauties

Chapter 790: Lorena’s Powerful Background

My cock was hard as steel now, pressing painfully against my zipper. I adjusted myself subtly, but there was no hiding it—not when she was standing this close, not when she smelled like sin and expensive perfume, not when every movement she made was a fucking tease.

Lorena’s dark eyes flicked to me, sizing me up with a single, calculating glance. She didn’t smile. She didn’t need to. "May I see the case files?" she asked Sarah, her voice leaving no room for argument.

Sarah hesitated, then shoved the stack of papers across the table.

Her lips—full, painted a deep, fuckable red—curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile, more like a challenge. "Can I talk to my client alone?" she purred, her voice dripping with authority, with promise.

Sarah hesitated, her face twisted in frustration, but she nodded, storming out with Diaz in tow.

The door clicked shut.

Alone.

Lorena’s gaze raked over me, slow and deliberate, like she was undressing me with her eyes. She pulled out the chair, the movement making her skirt ride up just enough to flash the top of her stockings—black, lace, fuck—before she sat, crossing her legs.

The fabric of her skirt hitched up, giving me a glimpse of her thighs—thick, smooth, perfect—and I had to clench my fists to keep from reaching out, from spreading them right there and burying my face between them.

Lorena’s gaze burned into me as she leaned back in her chair, the movement making her blazer gape just enough to give me another tempting glimpse of the cleavage straining against her blouse. My mind flickered with images of peeling that fabric away, my fingers tracing the swell of her breasts before—

She pulled the file closer, her long, manicured nails tapping against the paper. The first page displayed my name—Jack Reynolds—along with the details of my company, my assets, my empire. Her eyes widened slightly as she read, her full lips parting in a soft gasp. "You’re Jack Reynolds?" she breathed, her voice laced with a mix of shock and something else—recognition. "Oh my God... I have seen you somewhere before. That’s why you seemed so familiar."

I smirked, leaning back in my chair, my fingers steepled. "Glad I made an impression."

I leaned back in my chair, my smirk deepening. "Glad I left an impression."

Her attention snapped back to the file, and as she turned the page, my own expression darkened. The crime scene photo stared up at us—a man I knew. The guy I’d put down in Marina’s store, his lifeless eyes frozen in the image. The memory flashed through my mind like a movie reel—blood splattered across the floor, the cold weight of the gun in my grip, the way his body had crumpled like a ragdoll—all of it leading to her, to Marina, to the moment everything had changed.

Lorena’s eyebrows knitted together as she flipped through the pages, her lips pressing into a thin line. Each document laid out the murders I was suspected of, all timed perfectly with my arrival in Mexico. There was no direct evidence, but the circumstantial web was tight—my ties to Tony’s gang, my meeting with Marina, Tony’s sudden and convenient disappearance. The file painted a picture, one where I was the perfect villain, the man pulling all the strings.

I stayed silent, watching her as she absorbed it all. I didn’t know the ins and outs of Mexican law, but I knew power—and Lorena had it in spades. I let my AI lens scan her, the data unfolding in my vision like a dossier:

Name: Lorena Hernández

Age: 32

Profession: Lawyer (High-Profile Corporate & Criminal Defense) Assets: $200 Million (Inherited & Self-Made)

Relationship: None

Background: Daughter of Chief Justice Arturo Hernández, one of the most powerful men in Mexico. A legal titán in her own right, known for taking on high-stakes corporate cases—and select government cases, pro bono.

The thought slithered through my mind like a serpent, cold and calculating. Lorena Hernández wasn’t some wide-eyed idealist playing at charity—she was a strategist, a predator wrapped in silk and legal jargon.

The way she carried herself, the way her sharp eyes missed nothing, the way she spoke with the kind of authority that came from real power—it all screamed the same thing: This woman doesn’t do anything unless it benefits her.

And the pro bono cases? Please.

I let my gaze trace the lines of her body again—the way her blazer hugged her shoulders, the way her skirt clung to her hips like it was afraid to let go. She was polished, perfect, the kind of woman who knew exactly how to play the game.

But I’d seen her type before. The ones who smiled for the cameras, who took on high-profile cases for free just to get their names in the papers, just to have judges and politicians owe them favors. The ones who built their empires on the backs of other people’s desperation.

And then there was Daddy Dearest—Chief Justice Arturo Hernández, the man who probably pulled every string in Mexico’s legal system.

I bet he loved the idea of his daughter, the brilliant, selfless Lorena, taking on government cases. It made her look like a saint, didn’t it? The dutiful daughter, the righteous lawyer, the woman who cared about justice.

Lorena’s voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and commanding. "Mr. Jack," she said, her tone leaving no room for bullshit. She leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table, the movement making her blouse gape just enough to give me another tempting glimpse of her cleavage.

"I want the truth. No games." Her finger tapped the file again, her nail clicking against the paper. "There’s no direct evidence, but all of this—" she gestured to the pages spread out between us "—points to you. Somehow."

I met her gaze, my expression unreadable. She had the kind of presence that demanded respect—authority wrapped in a body that made men forget their own names. "Does the truth change anything?" I asked, my voice smooth, almost lazy, like I was discussing the weather instead of murder charges.

She didn’t blink. "Legally? No. But I need to know what I’m walking into. I don’t like surprises, Mr. Reynolds." Her eyes bored into mine, dark and unyielding. "And I really don’t like losing."

She paused, tilting her head slightly, her gaze flicking over me like she was trying to peel back my layers. "But there’s something else... Why didn’t you call your own lawyers? Why request a government-appointed one?"