Ellie has a dark secret that could ruin her, and Cole is about to figure it out.
While working a difficult case, FBI Special Agent Cole Harvey meets attorney Ellie James. He thinks he may have found the one, but he can't trust her? She's hiding something from him and the case he's working is complicating his judgement.
Elliott "Ellie" James is a sweet girl from Louisiana. She's worked hard to become an attorney in New York City at a very young age, despite a hard start in life. Her father taught her many things about life and death. He also taught her how to survive. However, he didn’t teach Ellie anything about love. So, when she meets Cole, she's not prepared for the feelings that come with him.
Her southern charm can be misleading, because she has a dark secret. And SA Harvey is getting closer to figuring it out.
Ellie has a dark secret that could ruin her, and Cole is about to figure it out.
While working a difficult case, FBI Special Agent Cole Harvey meets attorney Ellie James. He thinks he may have found the one, but he can't trust her? She's hiding something from him and the case he's working is complicating his judgement.
Elliott "Ellie" James is a sweet girl from Louisiana. She's worked hard to become an attorney in New York City at a very young age, despite a hard start in life. Her father taught her many things about life and death. He also taught her how to survive. However, he didn’t teach Ellie anything about love. So, when she meets Cole, she's not prepared for the feelings that come with him.
Her southern charm can be misleading, because she has a dark secret. And SA Harvey is getting closer to figuring it out.
The elevator bell rings in my ears as it chimes, announcing every stop we pass on its ascent to the twentieth floor. The doors slide open to reveal a bustling office space. It’s not the wide-open spaces of a high rise with floor to ceiling windows that fill other buildings of the financial district, but it pays the bills.
I work at the New York County Defender Services office of New York City. It’s not my dream job but it’s a small price to pay for the experiences and advantages it provides me. Plus, the extensive benefits are beyond fantastic.
As I walk toward my office, the clapping of my heels bounces off the faintly lit, blue-grey hallways. Fluorescent bulbs flicker making my arrival feel a little more ominous than in any other part of this building.
I stop at the desk of the department assistant. She exchanges today’s schedule for the double shot, almond milk, no whip, no foam, cappuccino that I bought her.
Every morning, she prints out court times for me. I have them all on my digital planner, but I prefer to have the paper copy in case I need to use it in arguments. I am always ready if anyone deviates from the itinerary. “Why are we late starting?” or “This was not on my agenda”. A trick I learned from a stickler, asshole of a professor I had in law school.
“Never assume everyone is informed and never let them know how informed you are.”
“You ready?” Molly asks as I set her fancy ass drink on her desk, and she takes a single sheet of paper from her printer.
“I’m always ready.”
She’s similar to me in a lot of ways. Except for her fiery red hair against her porcelain skin. We are the same height at 5 feet 7 inches, though I’m always in heels to her combat boots.
Molly Andrews is a sweet thing from Tennessee and never has a bad word to say about anyone. I know she has a firecracker buried inside; I just have to find the fuse.
“Give ‘em hell.” She says as we swap the contents of our hands.
“I always do.” I say with a wink.
The lights are dim, and the emotions are dimmer. The sound of my heels on the cold marble floors of the courthouse reverberates through the long, wide hall outside the courtroom. The doors leading to my next case open as I approach. Fully prepared to get another asshole free for crimes he definitely committed.
What’s on today’s case agenda? A preliminary hearing for my latest client. A man by the name of Ronald Garrison. He is accused of drug possession with intent to sell and theft of property after being found using the bank card of a young girl that was found not far from his location. She was taken to the hospital and barely survived.
He claims to have encountered a group of out-of-town girls trying to score drugs while on a school field trip. He said he told them he wasn’t involved with drugs and suggested they go home.
I’m sure he has contacts with the drug dealers of his area but so far, there is no proof of that. No previous arrests for drug possession. So, for that reason and that reason alone, I must represent my client like I would represent anyone I believed to be innocent.
The problem is, I’m not so sure he is innocent. However, like I’m constantly reminded, I’m not the jury, just the attorney.
Sure, I will do my job and get the charges dropped. That’s why I was hired. People trust me.
It’s probably because of my kindhearted aura. I buy coffee for my co-workers, say “please” and “thank you” with a smile, and of course, I have a slight southern accent. No one thinks a girl from Louisiana can be anything but southernly charmed and sweet.
It allows access into places others can’t get. It gets me contacts others would only dream of having. That’s also why no one ever expects me to leave my charm at the door of the courthouse. I leave my kind words and innocent eyes outside. I have no qualms with lighting a fire in court. That’s why they send me in here.
I take the cases no one else wants. They should be slam dunks and the offender should go straight to jail. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.
I don’t really care if they are good people or not. I’m not a good person, but I believe I still deserve a chance. So, I fight.
Even still, I pick my cases carefully. I pick the ones that are no flash, no glimmer. I pick the challenging ones. Cases I know I can win. And I always win.
And that’s why today, once again, I have to turn on the blistering charm. It makes my stomach turn but if you want to play with the devil, you have to be prepared for the burn. And I know how to burn.
AGE 13
“Use your pretty face and kind voice to your advantage, Elliott. Never let them know what you are capable of. Never let them see what lies beneath. Until it’s too late for them. Only then, should you show your true self.”
I know my father thought I was pretty. He told me so. Not in the traditional, adoring father sense. He didn’t dote on my every whim or throw out empty compliments to make reassurances of my worth. He would use his brutal words to remind me that it could be my downfall. That my beauty was a flaw.
I thought I loved my father. But I loved the idea of my father. He always wanted a son and made damn sure I knew that. With my name choice and the way he treated me, it was made clear that I was a disappointment from day one.
“How does your client plead, Ms. James?”, the judge flips through the court documents.
“Your Honor, my client and I request this case be dismissed and charges be dropped due to the lack of evidence.”
The prosecuting attorney quickly looks between me and the Judge who drops the papers and removes his reading glasses. “Care to elaborate, Ms. James?”
“Mr. Garrison’s Civil Rights have been violated, sir. Section 1983 of the Civil Rights Act provides individuals to fight any and all violations they believe have taken place.”
He motions for me to continue.
“The Fourth Amendment protects individuals from any unreasonable search and seizure. The arresting officers gave no reason or provided valid evidence prior to Mr. Garrison being searched.”
My opposing counsel stands, keeping fisted hands firmly fixed on the table in front of him.
I smile internally.
“Come on, Your Honor. There was an egregious overstep of power. A blatant violation of my client’s Constitutional Rights. He should have never been subjected to the unreasonable force inflicted on him during this search. He was not an immediate threat. He attempted to cooperate with officials. Only after he was wrongfully detained and feared for his life, did he physically respond.”
“Objection.” The prosecutor to my right shouts.
The judge holds a hand up to silence the other attorney, “Mr. Henson, this is just a preliminary hearing. We are not arguing cases today.”
“Sounds like we are.”, he says under his breath in a whisper, but I still hear it.
“With all due respect Your Honor, you cannot possibly be blind enough to think that this is anything more than a case of mistaken identity. The last few days have caused my client extreme emotional distress. As well as, but not limited to, damage to his reputation and financial burdens. In fact, I have enough evidence and witness testimony that would benefit my client greatly in a lawsuit of false arrest. Relating to the use of excessive force used by the New York Police Department. He could seek a large sum of money.”
“Ok, Ms. James. That’s enough.”
I’m fired up now and I don’t intend on stopping, “Now, Your Honor, I think it would be a better use our resources to retrain the arresting officers in the topics of miscommunications, flawed procedures, identification methods, and inadequate investigations.” I reiterate each topic I list by raising a finger.
Henson doesn’t like that. “That does not change the fact that your client was found two blocks away from the location Ms. Odes was located, with her wallet on him.”
Well, I don’t like that either, “When you have no money, are hungry and are in a position that maybe you would be charged for a crime based on your station in life, perhaps you would take a wallet you found on the street, too.”
I pause and take a step closer to him before continuing, “But you have never gone hungry a day in your life. You have never feared for your safety because the only place you can find an affordable place to live, just so happens to be in an area of town, known for dense gang activity.” I pause for affect. “How’s that Upper East Side Brownstone treating you, Mr. Henson?”
The judge bangs his gavel, “Ms. James!”
“Where was the lineup? Where are the videos with timestamps clearly showing my client’s presence on that date.”
He doesn’t respond.
“Convenient, isn’t it?” I turn my attention back to the judge. “This is just a case of mistaken identity and negligence. Plain and simple.”
Another bang of the gavel and I finally yield.
The judge’s voice echoes throughout the courtroom. “Due to the lack of evidence, I find this case dismissed. You are free to go Mr. Garrison. And Mr. Henson, my chambers. Now.”
His gives his gavel a final bang indicating court is over.
I know Garrison was probably guilty. Hell, most of the people in the courtroom probably thinks he did it. However, in a court of law, it’s not what you think you know. It’s what you can prove. And they couldn’t prove anything.
Mission accomplished. Charges dismissed. And the fucker walks free.
When I return to my office with lunch in hand, Molly bounces out from behind the assistant’s desk and is on my heels. She likes to bend my ear about all my cases.
She is about to start law school, and I wish I had someone that would’ve discussed cases with me when I was in college.
“How did it go?” Molly drags out the last word.
“Like they all do. Charges dropped due to insufficient evidence.” I replied. “He even tried to thank me by kissing my hand and calling me ‘darlin’.”
“Oof, don’t they know that we hate that? Men always assume if you’re from below the Mason Dixon line, that you keep sweet.”
She tears into the food I’ve brought for our lunch date.
“Anyways, you have a meeting at two with Mr. Blackwell about the Holmes case coming up. And your sister called. She wants you to call her back and ‘stop ignoring her texts’.”
My sister only calls my office when I don’t respond to her text messages. I don’t talk to her as frequently as she wishes. I love her but she can be extremely, emotionally taxing. She assumes I’m avoiding her. Even though it’s true, she can’t prove that.
I bow my head as I slump in my desk chair, because neither of those things sound like a fun time. “I can’t meet Blackwell today. Can you push it to Monday? I have an appointment this afternoon.”
I don’t.
With that statement, and the fact that the universe enjoys fucking with me, there’s a knock at my door. In walks Peter Joseph Blackwell, III. He sits in the chair next to Molly and pops his far too expensive shoes, on top of my desk.
Blackwell has your average small dick syndrome. He thinks his father’s title is something that will catapult his own career into politics. With only one more year of experience than I have, he acts like my superior. When in actuality, I have far more wins than he does.
“Another case dismissed, Ellie? I count that as a win. Your record is impressive so early in your career.”
His disgusting smile makes my stomach turn. He is not an unattractive man, but he is hideous to me. An ugly soul on an ugly man. A few inches taller than me but large in his shoulders. He has light brown hair and a crooked nose he contributes to a high school career in football. Though I think it’s because he most likely smarted off to the wrong person.
“I would love to pick your brain about your process.” He says.
“Feminine charm.” I retort, hoping this will shut him up.
He smiles and winks, “I’m sure it is.”
I want to vomit.
“Well Ellie…” He rises with ego. Buttons his jacket and smooths his tie. “I hope the courtroom isn’t the only place your charm benefits you.” He turns and walks out of my office.
As soon as the door closes with a small thump, Molly speaks up, “He likes you, you know.”
“Not interested.”
C.E. Mathis delivers a smart, sexy, and suspense-laced romance in Secrets: Law and Disorder, a story that blends sizzling chemistry with high-stakes professions and emotional depth. Told in dual points of view, the novel tracks the fiery clash and slow-burn connection between Ellie, a sharp-witted public defender, and Cole, a no-nonsense special agent who enters the story with a grudge against lawyers—and quickly finds himself knocked completely off balance.
Their first meeting is electric, laced with banter, misperceptions, and instant attraction. It’s the kind of romantic spark that feels cinematic, like the opening of a fast-paced TV drama. Cole’s initial assumptions about Elliott "Ellie"—expecting a man, bracing for battle—are swiftly dismantled, and what follows is a refreshing reversal of the usual dynamic: he falls first, hard and unexpectedly.
One of the novel’s greatest strengths lies in how it builds character. Snippets from Ellie’s past, particularly moments with her father, offer quiet yet powerful insight into her motivations and moral compass. She’s not just sharp in court—she has a natural gift for reading people, a skill that subtly shapes both her personal and professional interactions. Cole, for his part, is equally compelling. His job brings constant danger, but it’s his vulnerability beneath the bravado that makes him a standout lead.
The tension between them—emotional and physical—is perfectly paced. It builds with a steady, deliberate rhythm, giving each moment more impact. Their romantic arc is interwoven with suspense, ethical dilemmas, and a strong supporting cast that adds texture without overwhelming the central relationship.
Without giving too much away, Secrets: Law and Disorder is best experienced going in almost blind. The plot unfolds organically, gaining momentum with each chapter and rewarding the reader with a satisfying, well-earned conclusion.
C.E. Mathis combines legal drama, personal stakes, and magnetic attraction in a novel that only gets better as it goes. Smartly written and deeply entertaining, this is romantic suspense done right.