119 Twisted Sister

A/N: ever since I played the Maya kidnapping case, and also, as you guys know, covered it in great depth in the earlier chapters, it has bothered me to no great end why it
appeared that Phoenix was flabbergasted upon Miles’s zombie resurrection from the dead, whereas Franziska did not appear even remotely surprised and just completely annoyed! Therefore, I just had to utilize this chapter as a chance to put my take as to why that was so!

Would you know my name
If I saw you in heaven?
Would it be the same
If I saw you in heaven?

I must be strong
And carry on,
‘Cause I know I don’t belong
Here in heaven.

Would you hold my hand
If I saw you in heaven?
Would you help me stand
If I saw you in heaven?

I’ll find my way
Through night and day,
‘Cause I know I just can’t stay
Here in heaven.

Time can bring you down,
Time can bend your knees.
Time can break your heart,
Have you begging please, begging please.

Beyond the door,
There’s peace I’m sure,
And I know there’ll be no more
Tears in heaven.

Would you know my name
If I saw you in heaven?
Would it be the same
If I saw you in heaven?

I must be strong
And carry on,
‘Cause I know I don’t belong
Here in heaven

Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma
Gatewater Hotel, Presidential Suite
March 20, 2018

Franziska Von Karma what the hell are you still doing here in America anyway? Accept a loss gracefully and just go home already! She silently screamed. They have no idea how to make a decent German dish in this godforsaken country! Do you call this Kartoffelpuffer?!

Grumpily, the German prosecutor pushed away her only half-consumed room service dinner tray, bearing the most Scheiße excuse for a German dish she’d ever had, and flicked off the television set.

She very well knew the answer to the repeated question her wretched mind was taunting her with, albeit, not a good one. After all, she hadn’t had a case in three months against that accursed fool, Phoenix Wright, to whom she had humiliatingly lost twice now, thus obliterating her previous perfect record. The reason she was sticking around was that Franziska was positive that the third time would be the charm, and that sooner or later if she was patient enough, she would have her final opportunity to bring that foolish fool of a man to his knees!

Franziska was completely indifferent about Los Angeles. It was pretty and hot, if not a trifle smoggy, but being there, if anything, only depressed her even more, as she couldn’t escape the fact that she was working out of the same building, and staying in the same city, where Miles had both worked and resided.

Miles.

She closed her eyes. She could still see his handsome face as clearly, as though it were yesterday, and felt the familiar tightness once again forming in her chest. Would the pain ever stop?!

So many times this past year, before I fully accepted that you were truly gone, while I would stop thinking that I saw your face in every crowd, I would still try to sense your presence and imagine that some sort of faint signal came through to me, in the matter of crackling on an old radio. Any way to feel or get a sense of you was good enough for me, some confirmation that you were still out there somewhere. Sometimes, I’d reach my fingertips outward and feel them tingle, as though I could feel your touch somehow…

Her reverie was interrupted at that moment by a loud knocking at her hotel room door.

OK, this is very unusual! If I were a superhero, I would say that my Spidey-sense was tingling at the exact moment before that happened…

Surprised, as she was not expecting anybody, especially at this late hour, and she hadn’t ordered any search of room service, the prosecutor reflexively grabbed her whip from the coffee table. Then she threw on and belted her satiny robe over her slip silk nightie, and was about to answer the door, just as she heard another series of somewhat impatient rapping, louder and more insistent than the first.

It’s 11 o’clock on a weeknight! The Wild Mare fumed, her fingers tightening around her weapon.

The bellboy has some serious nerve! I wonder what the devil he wants?! It had best be some sort of free service – ideally some sort of alcoholic beverage! The one good thing about California is it appears they can make a decent wine! Not as good as Germany, of course…

“Hold your horses!” She grumbled, flinging the door open with a scowl. “Just what urgent matter has you banging on my door at this ungodly – ”

The words died on her lips, and her heart leaped high in her throat as she stared into a pair of beloved, familiar, slate-grey eyes. She would know those orbs anywhere. They had been plaguing her dreams for the past year.

Standing there, on the other side of the door, was Miles Edgeworth, as handsome as he had been the very the last time she’d seen him …and looking very much alive!

“Mein Gott!” As Franziska’s lips parted in astonishment, her free hand, which had been clutching her lasso, fluttered upward to clutch her chest, consequently dropping the weapon to the plush carpeted floor by her feet. She needed to brace her full weight on the doorknob with her other hand so that she wouldn’t faint from shock. “Ich glaube, ich spinne! M – Miles? Is that really you?”

“Hallo, Franziska.” He smiled tiredly and his voice was weary, as though he had come from a very long journey. “Won’t you please invite me in?”

Noticing she was still frozen in place, as though she’d been poleaxed, he gave a slight bow, then carefully brushed past his foster sibling into the suite and gently reached behind her to shut the door.

The two attorneys stared at each other for what seemed like ages. At last, Miles was the one to break the silence.

“It’s been a long time, Big Sister,” he ventured cautiously, as though chartering into unknown waters. “You look … quite well.”

She just continued to gawk at him with rounded eyes. Uncertain of what to do next, he hesitantly leaned forward to give some sort of hug or European-style cheek exchange as a greeting. And that was when she suddenly sprang into action.

Her cheeks slowly turning pink with indignation and fury, the Frau recovered from her shock long enough to raise her whip-free hand and attempt to crash it, full force, against the side of Miles Edgeworth’s too-handsome for his own damn good, back from the dead, kisser!

He caught her wrist in midair, holding it in a vice grip to prevent her from doing further damage.

“Is that any way to greet your Little Brother?” He asked quietly, with what Franziska considered maddening calm. She then went to pummel his broad chest with her free hand, which was clenched into a tiny fist, but he caught that one as well, so she was reduced to just glaring up at him, wild-eyed, and teeth bared in a ferocious snarl.

“How dare you?!” She shrieked, thrashing so frantically to free herself from his strong hands that Miles reluctantly released her, yet ensured that he backstepped far out of the immediate danger zone, nevertheless.

Her breathing was ragged as she eyed him murderously.

“How dare you come back after all this time and expect me to be OK? I look well?! That is all you have to say to me, you … audacious Schwein?! Did you just expect me to run into your arms and tell you how happy I am that you have miraculously returned from the grave?!”

He raised his hands, palms up, in the universal gesture of surrender, and regarded her helplessly.

“Would you be further enraged if I told you that was the reaction I was somewhat hoping for, however unrealistic it may have been?”

Somehow, they had staggered into the living room, where Franziska picked up a nearby sofa cushion and hurled it at him, as was tradition.

As was also tradition, Miles ducked just in time to dodge the flying weapon, which was his customary reflexive action to the tempestuous woman’s habitual attempted assault by plushy item! Hell, he might as well put his defensive fencing moves to some good use!

“Oh you did, did you? Well, I am so sorry to disappoint you!” She hollered, her stormy eyes filled with tears of relief and rage. “Damn you, Miles Edgeworth! You vanished! You left a suicide note! Do you have any idea what hell you put me through, while you have been out gallivanting and enjoying yourself, as exemplified by your tan, I have been lamenting and mourning the loss of you for the past year! I have cried myself to sleep every single night since you’ve been gone! I thought you had killed yourself! But you are obviously not dead, so wo zur Hölle have you been? And do not try to claim you have been taking all this time to do some thinking or some other type of Scheiße excuse because I will kill you – I swear to Gott!”

The German had to stop to catch her breath and stood there, a fresh couch cushion in her hand, poised and ready to launch, as she awaited his answer. She was panting as though she had run a marathon and the stinging tears in her eyes were now streaming down her cheeks. The fire that had been burning inside her had run out of fuel. Shaking, she lifted her head, sparks flying out of her eyes as she beheld the man who had caused her so much suffering.

“I deserved all of that,” he said quietly. “I cannot even imagine the amount of pain I put you through, and have no right to beg your forgiveness, even though there is nothing on earth that I want more. But you are also entitled to an explanation, although I fear you will make very good on your threat and attack me once more when you hear what I was up to, in actuality.”

Franziska folded her arms across her chest as her argent orbs shot daggers at him.

“I will accept that scathing look of yours in the meantime,” he said smoothly, with just a trace of mirth. “Assuming, of course, that’s what it takes to ensure you do not attempt to make my alleged death become an actual one!”

“Just shut up and tell me where the hell you have been!”

“I was traveling about Europe.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “Thinking.”

She simply glowered at him in response. He put his palms up again.

“You asked, I answered!”

“You are most fortunate I do not have my whip handy!” She gritted her teeth. “Thinking, you say? For a year?! About what, pray tell?”

“Everything. My father’s death, what it meant to be a prosecutor, and…” he hesitated for a moment. “How you and I have more baggage than an airport because of Manfred!”

Noting that she didn’t even deny the charge, as cheeky as it had sounded, Miles hastily carried on.

“Franziska, all I yearned for was the chance to have a fresh start. After my father died, my subsequent living arrangements, although in a new, foreign country and culture, still did not allow me the opportunity to have an actual normal life.”

“Fair enough.” She curtly nodded her grudging agreement at the statement. “Go on.”

“Even after I became a prosecutor,” he continued. “Coming back to the States still did not allow me the opportunity to begin anew, because rather than making my own path in the judicial system, I picked up and practiced, the very old and very bad habits of my mentor, and was more obsessed with a perfect win record than actual justice. It was due to my ruthlessness, not my recognized success, which resulted in my nickname, which still haunts me to this day. Demon Prosecutor.”

He let out a resigned sigh.

“The rumors, the barbed remarks, they kept following me, with my tainted reputation preceding me everywhere I went! At a time when I needed to clean the slate more than anything in the world, still, I could not escape the chains of my past. So I took drastic measures.”

“And lead me to believe that you took your own life,” she stated hollowly, sinking like a ragdoll onto the sofa, still clutching the cushion to her chest.

“I didn’t want to be found, Franziska. Not until I became a man worth finding. Not until I found myself and the true meaning of what upholding the law, and being a prosecutor truly meant to me.”

His face was earnest as he crouched down at her feet, his expression pleading with her to understand.

“I was not out there sunbathing in Europe. I went from country to country, some more crooked and corrupt than my wildest imaginations, realizing that this world needs a prosecutor that incarcerates true criminals, based on evidence and not their egos. For the rest of my days, I will never forget some of the nightmarish scenarios encountered during my travels.”

A haunted look came into his eyes then, and she lightly tugged at his hand, urging him to come to sit on the sofa next to her.

“What kind of nightmarish things?” She prodded gently when it appeared he was too lost in the terrible memories to speak.

“I went to many countries studying the judicial and court systems throughout all of Europe. In Greece, I sat there and watched the trial of a 20-year-old punk kid, whose father was some billionaire oil tycoon, walk away with a mere two-year sentence, on what was his umpteenth drunk driving offense, the latest one which killed a grandfather and grandmother and their four-year-old twin granddaughters.”

He buried his head in his hands.

“The defense seriously attempted to claim that being from such a wealthy background, the defendant was slightly crazy and out of touch with reality, and shouldn’t be held accountable for his actions! This rascal had a record of previous offenses a mile-long, Franziska! When he was 15, he drunkenly crashed his car right through the gym doors of his high school. When the officials called his father, that … Hurensohn had the gall to tell them to shut their mouths, or else he threatened to buy the whole school and put them all out of jobs if they dared take things to a higher level.”

He looked up from his hands and regarded her appalled face with distressed eyes.

“Two meager years, Franziska,” he whispered. “That was all the courts gave the scoundrel, for wiping out four lives. Where is the justice for that family? You tell me!”

“Oh, Miles…” she swallowed hard at the pain in his eyes, but he still wasn’t done with his tales of international horror.

“I went to Poland. There was a woman, with bruises all over her arms and a black eye, who had just been released from the hospital, where her husband had nearly beaten her to within an inch of her life because he thought she had overcooked the cabbage rolls. All of this in front of their 5-year-old daughter.”

The barrister raked an agitated hand through his hair.

“The woman had a police report, a medical report, photos of the damage she had done to her body, along with her traumatized daughter’s recorded witness statement, read to the courts by the police officer who handled the case. All of this evidence, yet the prosecutor still saw fit to ask for a reduced sentence, and the man walked away with a probationary warning. What justness was served to that poor mother?”

Franziska was near tears again as she listened, but this time for an entirely different reason.

“I went to Ukraine.” Miles shook his head miserably. “A 17-year-old boy was the one on trial because he had tried to defend the honor of his 14-year-old sister by some affluent businessman, who tried to rape her one night when they were coming home from a party. That Saukerl broke that young boy’s leg and dislocated his arm, while only suffering a bloody nose himself for his vile actions, and yet he wasn’t the one on trial for assault! The prosecutor moved for dismissal! This is the kind of filth that’s out there in the world! These helpless, innocent people need someone on their side, to try to protect them from people like this!”

His voice shook.

“They need someone who cares about the truth, and nothing else, no matter what!”

“I am so sorry, Miles,” she uttered sincerely, placing a hand on his arm. “That sounds beyond awful. It must have been quite disturbing to witness such terrible things happening to innocent people.”

“No! I’m grateful that I did! I have lived a very sheltered life until now, and have been unable to see what’s out there in this world!” The cravat wearer let out a hissing sound. “And now that I have, I know what my path in life should have been, and will be, going forward. I couldn’t have done that if I hadn’t taken the time to get away from everything.”

He paused and looked her straight in the eye.

“Regardless, the one thing I am most sorry for is making you feel like you were all alone, mourning for a man who was nowhere near the pearly gates just yet. Forgive me, Franziska, I beg of you.”

“I am very happy that you are alive, Miles.” Her eyes were more saddened than angry but also filled with compassion. “Speaking of mourning, there was a time when I desperately wished, more than anything, that you had been by my side. That would have been at Papa’s funeral.”

Her gaze dropped to her lap.

“He – he was executed while you were away. I – I thought you should know.”

Miles saw the tears glistening in those mesmerizing silver orbs, and gave himself a thousand mental lashes for the fact that she’d had to mourn both him and her father at the same time. He loved her so much! How was it that in trying to be a better man, and do the right thing, he kept unintentionally causing her more and more pain?

“Come here,” he said gruffly, pulling her into his arms. “Your father was a legal legend, Franziska, and news of his passing did make it over to Europe. My deepest condolences for your loss.”

“You mean you already knew?” She cried indignantly, attempting to wrench herself free from his embrace. “You were aware of the fact, yet did not even bother to attend, or find it prudent at that point to let me know that I still had one more existing member of my family left?!”

“I thought it would be best if I stayed away.” His countenance was morose as well as apologetic. “I didn’t want to have my somewhat infamous presence steal Manfred’s thunder at his funeral. Besides, I felt as though I would be partaking in some sort of morbid farce to be standing there, pretending to be grieving, alongside the other actual mourners, considering my newfound stance regarding your father, Franziska. The whole notion seemed grotesque to me. Although for what it’s worth, I did send flowers, even if I did so anonymously.”

He regarded the woman in his arms with sincere eyes.

“I swear that you and Katharina were both in my thoughts.” Her eyes softened then and his tongue loosened dangerously. “E – Especially you, though.”

They stared at one another for several, breathless heartbeats, and Miles became inherently aware then that all she was wearing on that nubile physique was a silky robe, the sash of which had loosed somewhat during their earlier struggle, and a chemise slip nightie underneath were the sole garments between her and his suddenly ravenous eyes, his starved touch. And the way she was gazing at him only heightened his awareness that she, too, was fully aware of the intimacy of their situation – and was no more averse to it than he was.

Miles caught the unmistakable beckoning within those cinereal orbs and found himself powerless to resist the femme fatale’s seductive beckoning expression this time. Sliding his fingers alongside her jaw, he tipped her chin up and lowered his mouth to within an inch of hers, feeling the warmth of her breath against his lips as she let out a soft gasp, even as her back stiffened slightly.

The mixed signals bewildered him.

Her hypnotic gaze tempts me to come closer, yet at the same time, that delectable body seems to have tensed up at my propinquity. How am I to react to such contradicting indicators?

Drawing back slightly, he stared searchingly into those silver eyes, seeking an unspoken consent he needed to ensure was there and saw by her equally inquiring expression that she was seeking answers of her own within his.

He cannot deny his passionate stirrings anymore, for the eyes never lie. The blaze within those sterling depths is unmistakable. He can no longer resist the ardent flames between us that have been building up all this time, and is about to consume us both…

Without hesitation, she leaned forward so there was no longer any space between them, and the silent provocation of both her body and her eyes was unmistakable this time.

Her long lashes fluttered as she met his gaze expectantly, and he found himself lost in that sultry stare as he slid an arm around her waist and nuzzled her ear. The feeling of his hot breath on the sensitive lobe made her shiver in delight, and reflexively turn her face in his direction, the act bringing her lips into near contact with his. Her lush mouth parted on a trembling breath and all of Miles’s noble intentions slipped his mind as his long pent-up desires arrived unannounced and ended explosively, like detonating bombs.

As his arm clamped even tighter around her, Franziska was still unprepared for the fiery sensations coursing through her, making her throw her head back in abandon as he shoved his fingers into her hair and press her body so tightly against his that it was nigh impossible to tell where she ended and he began.

He felt the rapid heaving of her chest, which was now plastered against his own, helpless to everything as he stared at her flushed visage, awestruck by the unprecedented, frantic beating of his heart in response to the mere proximity of this barely legal woman.

Ever since his sexual awakening at the hands of his piano teacher as an adolescent, Miles had been very selective about the type of lover he preferred; normally the sexy and sophisticated variety, well-versed in the art of seduction. Experienced women of the world, skilled in the art of seduction as well as giving and receiving pleasure.

The fact that he was this fired up and rearing to go, seconds away from losing all control and ravaging her right then and there despite the fact he hadn’t even kissed her yet was downright laughable. However, there was no denying she’d reduced him to the mindset of a horny adolescent just by the mere feeling of those soft, feminine curves pressed into him. Even more beguiling was that for an ingenue, the Wild Mare was demonstrating herself to be quite a keen and enthusiastic pupil during this intense moment of being locked in his embrace, unwaveringly returning his hungry gaze with her own.

All musings of his arousal dissipated then, replaced with an unfamiliar aching sensation within his heart. In a mindless gesture of tenderness, he brushed his knuckles against her cheek, enjoying the satiny feel of her skin against his fingers. As much as he reveled in how her whole body seemed to melt against him, his conscience couldn’t help but gnaw at him, giving him unwelcome feelings of unease, uncertainty, and guilt. She was still so vulnerable, and he had caught her completely unaware by popping back into her life so unexpectedly – he didn’t want to take shameless advantage of her in such an emotionally charged situation.

Powerlessly enthralled, he cupped his palm around her chin, lifting it so their gazes were locked. Her full bosom was pressed against him, she could have created a blazing inferno with that heated look in those bedroom eyes, and those dewy, full lips were positively begging to be kissed. This daring game of cat and mouse they were ensnared in was as dangerous as it was intoxicating, and he hated himself for the raging licentious stirrings within him. Logically he knew that she deserved his respect and his trust, not his concupiscence. Nonetheless, his own rational mind and now painfully aroused body – either she was wholly unaware of the fact that his trousers had grown uncomfortably and visibly tight or she didn’t mind – were content to create a surging battle inside of him, with only his heart as the wayward referee.

She’d had every intention of punishing Miles in some way and still wasn’t sure she’d fully forgiven him for his deceit, especially regarding her father’s funeral… until his hand touched her cheek. The acceleration of her heart rate had nothing to do with fear or anger, and everything to do with what her body desperately craved. She couldn’t look away and instinctively knew after all this time, that he could read her like a book. His burning eyes were on her rapidly rising and falling chest, her breathing rate duly noted.

With a gentle finger, he reoriented her face so that he held their gazes, matching the fervor in her eyes and magnifying the spark ignited between them. There was no smile on his lips, only the heated intensity of his granite eyes that they both knew would be the start of this constrained, impending inferno.

Her heartbeat doubled as the hand clamped firmly around her spine drifted up and down in an erotic caress, while his other hand continued stroking her face, running his fingers over her cheek, chin, and over her lips.

Emboldened, she arched her body closer still and slid her hands over his muscled chest and shoulders, her eyes closing blissfully as his fingertips trailed down to her throat and collarbone, followed by the trail of his heated lips.

Miles lay her back on the sofa, gazing down at her, and then, something within him clicked.

All my life, I’ve mostly kept my deepest thoughts and emotions to myself within my core; a titanium box with an indestructible lock. There was never any prayer of anyone ever accessing the key that held the secrets to my soul – that hidden part of me that I never intended to be known by the outside world. I swore to myself that I would never reveal these secluded parts of myself, except to someone who meant the world to me. Someone that I truly loved with every fiber of my being.

With a mixture of incredulity and wonder, he stared down at the ethereal young temptress who had not only managed to galvanize not just his senses, but his mind and heart as well.

That’s just it, he realized. I love her. That’s why I don’t want to rush this. This still doesn’t feel quite right. It doesn’t feel like our time is right now just yet… Not when I haven’t been fully honest with her.

As though sensing his hesitation, she squizzed at him curiously.

“Is something wrong?”

“There’s something really important that I want you to know, which I haven’t divulged to you yet. I cannot have an eased conscience until I have fully purged myself to you,” he admitted remorsefully. “I feel like there’s something else that you need to know about my return back to Los Angeles.”

Taking a deep breath, he blurted out the words before he lost his nerve, fully knowing the risk he was about to take.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you for some time now. I was not only keeping tabs on your father’s funeral, but on essentially all of your cases, and everything you’ve been up to since you’ve been here in America.”

She eyed him cagily then and he heaved a deep sigh.

“Franziska, you’re not the first person to know that I’m not dead.”

“Ich glaub mich knutscht ein Elch!” She shot up from beneath him so quickly that the top of her head almost butted against his chin, and the lawyer nearly bit his damn tongue off! “I am not the first person? Then I demand you reveal to me this very instant just who was then?”

Her eyes flashed as they roamed searchingly over his guilty-looking face.

“Tell me, Miles! Who? Was it my sister?”

Silence from the chess lover.

Franziska’s voice rose with growing resentment.

“Don’t you dare tell me it was that fool, Phoenix Wright!”

“It was Gumshoe, Franziska,” Miles confessed, expelling a deep breath. “It was I who secretly helped during the investigation of the Maximillion Galactica murder trial back in December. I was the one who secretly called the good detective, swore him to secrecy, and directed him to do a surprise search of Acro’s room, as well as advised him not to be too harsh with the poor man afterward.”

The fire reignited and Franziska’s eyes, only this time, not from passion but utter fury.

“That was the second case that I lost a trial against that foolish, Phoenix Wright!” She seethed. “And it was the evidence that was found in that paraplegic’s room that helped him triumph over me once more! Were you not aware I was the prosecutor of that case?”

He looked away, his silence speaking volumes, and her voice rose.

“You mean to say that you willingly deceived me? It was you who put helped put that subsequent proverbial nail in my coffin?! How could you do such a horrendous thing to me?!”

“I had to do what I thought was right, Franziska!” He protested, although cringing inwardly at the pejorative glare she shot him. “Wright’s client was innocent! I just help steer them in the right direction to prove it, because that was the truth!”

“Your so-called precious truth made me lose my another consecutive case, you foolish fool!” She roared. “How dare you?!”

“It’s not about winning or losing, can’t you see that, Franziska?” Miles cried. “It’s about not sending the wrong man to death row! This is why I was gone for a year! Have you not been listening to a bloody word I’ve been saying to you?!”

“What I am hearing is that you betrayed me – yet again, you despicable Judas!” She screamed. “This is the very last time you will ever do so, do you hear me?! I forgave you for playing possum and purposefully missing my Papa’s funeral, leaving me to mourn by myself at a time when I could have used your support more than ever. Now, to add insult to injury, you profess to have double-crossed me – and have had a hand in making me look like a fool in court! And in front of that insufferable, foolish defense attorney, of all people!”

Her phizog was puce with rage.

“Miles Edgeworth, I hate you!”

She went to launch a pillow at him again, but recurrently, the logic genius had reflexes that were in top gear, and he grabbed the cushion while it was still clutched in her hands. He desperately tried to wrestle the intended weapon out of her grip but in a bizarre motion of déjà vu from the year before with her whip, the frenzied Frau maintained a tenacious grip on the item. It was yet another impromptu game of tug-of-war, which neither one of them intended to lose. The result was both prosecutors toppling off the sofa and onto the carpet, with Miles inadvertently pinning the fiery beauty beneath him.

“Get off of me, Gott verdammt!”

Almost crying from temper, the enraged Franziska raised a palm to slap him, but once he was too fast for her. He caught her hand in midair, then grabbed her other hand, throwing her arms over her head. Pinning both her wrists down to the floor, he stared down at her, his smoky gaze filled with intensity as he struggled to catch his breath.

“Will you please calm yourself, you crazy hellcat!” He gasped out in a labored breath.

Franziska stilled in her struggles as she glared back at him unflinchingly. Her face was flushed and her chest was heaving gently. With each apprehensive breath she drew, her dark-lashed eyes were wide with confusion, anger, and desire, looking as though she wasn’t certain what she wanted to do.

A flare of eros roared through him. With one hand, he brushed back a glossy lock of hair from her forehead and hoarsely uttered the fitting words of the famous Tina Turner song into her ear.

“I don’t care who’s wrong or right, I don’t really want to fight no more.”

He placed his other hand gently on her waist. For a few seconds, they just lay there, breathing heavily, without moving. He scrunched his hand up and grabbed a ball of her satiny robe in his tightened fist, his lips just millimeters away from her lobe. He could feel her shiver every time he exhaled, even as, with the last remaining shreds of his sanity his thoughts were frantically running through his mind over and over again as though on an endless treadmill.

By the rood! This cannot happen!

Miles knew he could take her, fast and furiously, right then and there. He was also aware that it would be crazed, angry, wild lovemaking; easily the most explosive, passionate, and most assuredly the best carnal encounter of both their lives.

It was déjà vu all right, but not the good kind.

Over two years ago, a gentlemanly young prosecutor had stepped into the office of another emotional woman, who had been weeping at the time and had sought merely to console her with his embrace and offer her friendly comfort. What had started as a noble intention had ended up with him essentially being the other man in a wild, illicit two-year rendezvous; one that’d only ended up burning him and Lana both in the end.

An affair in which he never should’ve partaken in the first place!

Things happen. Passion happens. I could always argue that my attempts to comfort Lana led to our first passionate kiss that day in her office. Nonetheless, there’s no argument in the world to justify the fact that I made frantic love to her, right there on her desk, just moments after! That was back during my Manfred-influenced days; when I thought that all women were mere objects I could conquer and possess, simply because I desired them and that they were mine for the taking – even if they belonged to another man! Von Karma was nothing more than a despicable, adulterous bastard and I should’ve known better than to use him as a role model in any way, especially in my romantic life! Yet, here I am, a hair’s breadth away from nearly having history repeat itself by making the very same mistake with said philandering Hurensohn’s daughter, who, unlike my ex, is no woman of the world whatsoever! She is young, inexperienced, and right now, psychologically vulnerable, confused, and angry! She lost her virginity to a complete cad the last time she was emotional and upset with me. Thus, she deserves to be wooed and made languorous love to – but not when she has just been jolted from her senses, and shaken out of the norm. I can’t do this to her. I won’t! I love her too damned much.

Miles stared down at her regretfully, knowing that he wanted nothing more than for it to happen. He felt Franziska stir beneath him, and her hand was reaching for his visage, not to slap this time, but to cup his cheek in her palm to turn his head, which had been bowed in deliberation, to face her, in an attempt to assess the contemplations of his racing mind.

I can not allow that to happen! One look into those mesmerizing eyes, at this proximity, and I shall lose all remaining shards of decency and sanity, and cave into these primal urges that I am seconds away from losing combat with. If I so much as kiss her, it will be game over…

Because immediately thereafter, he was going to make frenzied love to her, like some sort of callous rake, right there on her hotel room floor!

As much as his body didn’t want to, his mind knew he had to stop this from happening, for both their sakes. Slowly, he raised himself onto his arms, letting her robe fall out of his hand, but kept his open palm placed against her side. The vixen slowly turned her head to face him and Miles swallowed hard; it would be game over if he gazed into those come-hither eyes. He now had zero choices; he’d have to be a complete bastard in order to put the brakes on this steamrolling engine. And he had to do it now!

“So you hate me, do you?” He murmured silkily, putting his lips down by her ear once again so that they nearly touched her ear lobe. She shivered from the warmth of his breath and he forced his voice to harden. “Well, for the record, I love you, too … Big Sister!”

With that, he pushed himself up and off the floor, then swiftly rose to his feet, already halfway across the room and headed to the door by the time the shocked and spluttering Lady Von Whippingburg managed to get back up as well, her chest rising and falling with every panting breath.

“What kind of twisted game are you trying to play with me, Miles Edgeworth?” She shouted at his retreating back. “You know full well you wanted this just as much as I did! When are you going to cease being such a pathetic coward and stop running away from me?”

The logic genius didn’t turn around, just marched right up to the door, flung it open, and glanced regretfully back at her enraged, bewildered, beautiful mien one last time.

“Someday, you’ll understand,” he said simply, then bowed grandly. “Good Night, Big Sister.”

Then he shut the door behind him.

Furiously, Franziska grabbed the closest nearby object to her with any weight. In this case, it was the porcelain vase holding fake flowers sitting atop her coffee table, which she then flung at the door as hard as she could. It smashed into a million smithereens just as her face crumpled and she sank onto the sofa in an angry flood of tears.

“I am not your sister, you Saukerl!”

On the other side of the door, Miles leaned heavily back against the solid wood and closed his eyes, sighing soundlessly.

I’m sorry Franziska. It seems I cannot possess your soul without losing my own. And I’m not ready for that. Not just yet…

Miles Edgeworth
Von Karma Estate, Germany
April 14, 2026

Nobody else’s touch will ever be enough anymore, and no other’s look will be gratifying. It simply cannot convey every emotion I have. I need you to feel every emotion I do when I touch you. I need you to feel the heated flare in my cheeks and the spinning of my head whenever I smell the lingering redolence of your fragrance anywhere. I need you to feel the frenetic beating of my heart whenever I swivel my searching eyes around a city that has lost all beauty since you’ve been gone whilst I desperately seek your face in the throng. Only then does it dawn upon me the hard truth of our ill-fated estrangement, and my heart drops to my feet. In the next few moments, I stare vacuously through the window while attempting to collect the shattered pieces of my heart from the ground. I attempt to fasten them back together and take another pained breath as I look out the paned glass once more. Another plummet of my heart as I reflect on that day at the LA airport when I scrounged up the courage to kiss you for the very first time. A ghost of a smile lingers on my lips, and I close my eyes until the burning behind my lids roll back into my skull and I try to breathe again…

The barrister was still sitting at the computer desk in the study when he heard the footsteps behind him. He didn’t even realize that he still had the webpage open to the very last page Franziska had been looking at, as he had been too busy listening to the music playing on the website, while his eyes remained closed as he’d taken his little stroll down memory lane. He couldn’t bear to see these images any longer; although, in all honesty, the poignant song playing on a loop in the background was gut-wrenching enough in itself.

“Tears in Heaven, by Eric Clapton.” Lana suddenly whispered from behind him, her voice thick with unshed tears. “Possibly the most tragically beautiful melody about a parent losing their child ever created. It was the perfect song that the two of you chose for little Carol’s Memorial website.”

His eyes snapped open as her voice shattered his moment of fool’s paradise. He spun around in his chair to stare at his friend, whose eyes were bright and puffy; her cheeks streaked with tears. He’d completely forgotten that she was even in the house; had assumed that she’d left immediately after making her phone call.

The brunette sniffled just then, and warning bells went off in his brain. Something was very, very wrong.

“Lana, what is it?” He asked quickly, rising from his seat and placing his hands on her shoulders. “Has something happened? You were going to call Ema … Is everything all right? Is she all right?”

“My sister’s fine.” The brunette shook her head miserably as liquid pools filled her lovely eyes. “But no, everything’s not alright, Miles. That call was because she wanted to tell me about J – Jake.”

As she spoke the words, the Agent burst into a fresh set of tears.

“Marshall?” He peered into her face with concern. “Lana, talk to me! What happened?”

“I chose to become betrothed to a hero, that’s what happened!” She sobbed. “There was a fight at the prison, and the jailhouse bullies were picking on one of the inmates for some stupid reason, so my gallant cowboy just had to come riding to the rescue. He stuck his neck to defend himself from the attackers – and it caused a riot. He’s not hurt but because he was part of the ruckus, they are denying his parole, for which he was eligible this summer!”

She buried her face in her hands.

“I haven’t seen Jake in seven years, Miles! We were so close to finally being able to be together, only to have this happen now!”

“Oh no!” He groaned, pulling her weeping form into his arms as her tears soaked his shoulder. “I am so sorry, Lana.”

“It – it’s so unfair!” She wailed. “Why does this sort of thing keep happening to us?!”

“Can he not appeal the decision?”

“Sure, he can damn well try, but I’m not going to hold my breath! The same legal system that has kept Jake behind bars for such a minor misdemeanor, all these years, is hardly going to go easy on him! They’ve already thrown the book at him for being a former cop, one that’s been incarcerated for stealing evidence, but moreover, assaulting a fellow police officer! They’re not going to show any mercy with him now partaking in a prison fight, even if it was for noble intentions!”

Despite the tragic circumstances, he couldn’t help but smile grimly at the choice of words.

Noble intentions – falling flat? Can hardly claim that I’m a stranger to that, myself!

“Not to sound overly nosy or judgmental, but what made you decide to look up your baby’s commemorative site?” Lana asked, sniffling slightly as she wiped her tears on her sleeve. “I mean, it seems like a pretty heartbreaking thing for you to want to come home to…”

Miles swallowed painfully at the lump in his throat as he realized his friend had no idea about his devastating news, in recent light of her own.

“Franziska – she’s gone.” He closed his eyes and shook his head, as though trying to block out the painful thought. “I came home and I found she’d left me a Dear John letter. I have no idea of her whereabouts, so I tried to play detective and happened to click on her browser history. When I checked out the last thing she looked at before she left, that memorial site for our daughter was what came up.”

“Obviously, she was in a highly emotional and melancholic state at the time of her departure.”

Grateful for the momentary distraction from her own misery, Lana opened the browser history once more and clicked on the second to last tab. A window popped up to a video channel, which featured the Cyndi Lauper classic 80’s ballad, “Time After Time.”

“Wow, this tune is a pretty forlorn one, as well,” she observed, glancing over at Miles. “I wonder what had happened that made Franziska so unhappy?”

“That song is significantly symbolic – more bittersweet than blue for us,” he explained wistfully. “When she was younger and just starting to learn how to dance, this was the song that we first danced to. I once referred to it as our song, completely in jest. Later, after we got together, Franziska told me that the ballad always reminded her of me, even if at times, growing up, she felt that she would never keep up with me because I’d always seemed to be a few steps ahead of her. It made her both happy and sad at the same time, even though I’d promised her that I would never be so far ahead of her that she wouldn’t be able to catch up to me.”

“Hmm, so she was feeling nostalgic as well as somewhat despondent right before she left,” the former detective mused. “Since you seem so thrown off course by this, I’m assuming you didn’t see this coming? How were things between you right before you had to leave?”

He shrugged helplessly.

“Things were never quite the same after we lost Carol, despite my efforts to restore the intimacy to our relationship. However, right before I had to go, she allowed me to properly kiss her, for the first time in months. Moreover, she kissed me back! I actually, perhaps naively, had hope then that we could once more rekindle the romance and the passion when I returned.” He laughed bitterly. “I even mentioned to her that perhaps we could discuss trying again for another baby when I came back. Talk about two people never being in harmony, or even on the same page! I have no idea how long she felt this way … so detached and completely disconnected from me.”

“Um…” she glimpsed at something in the web history and gulped. Quickly, she closed the internet windows, then turned around to face him with a strained smile. “Anyway, Miles, thanks for letting me use your phone. I’m going to go call a taxi now and get out of your hair as I’d promised…”

“You’ve always been terrible at hiding things from me and you still are.” He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Lana, what the hell did you see in the web history that you are palpably struggling not to tell me?”

“Nothing!” She insisted, biting her thumb. “Look, you just got back from a long trip and unfortunately came home to quite a shock! Miles, what you really should do is have something to eat and then get some rest. The last thing you should be doing is worrying about superfluous details such as how long-ago things were…”

“Let me see that bloody thing!”

Brushing past her, the agitated legist reopened the last two websites, the memorial site, alongside the music video site. His prosecutor logic had already deduced that Franziska had felt very forsaken and separated from him, as well as very mournful and desolate right before she’d left. He couldn’t fault her for anything. After all, he had been gone for nearly a year; perhaps it had just been too much for her this time. Maybe she had gotten fed up with constantly feeling as though he was always leaving her behind.

And to be fair, I was gone for quite an extensive period…

That was when he saw it.

May 16, 2025.

A year.

Franziska had decided to leave him … almost one full year ago.

She’d had the figurative foot out the door around the same time he’d had one literal foot out the door as well; except he had been leaving or the call of duty – not out of their relationship! Nonetheless, she had given him zero indication of her intentions, when she’d had ample opportunity to do so – in person, which he was certainly entitled to after eight goddammed years!

Instead, his former betrothed had taken the spineless, sneaky exit route with that blasted billet-doux!

The so-called love of his life had secretly checked out of their union when her betrothed hadn’t even been gone for three weeks at the time! Like a simpleton, he’d jauntily set off on his journey, foolishly believing he’d had her blessing to do so the whole time. He’d naïvely spent all his days and nights warming his heart and hopes with the memories of her sweet lips on his, eagerly anticipating the day he could come home to her. He had been lovingly faithful and completely lost without her. He’d even let down his guard about keeping things private and had been chattering away like an animated chipmunk all this time, to Lang, Lana, and anyone that cared to hear about his gorgeous fiancée back home; about how he couldn’t wait to return to her loving arms.

However, this time around, it had been not Miles, but Franziska who’d been the one to be several steps ahead and out of reach. Moreover, she had coldly, deliberately, and heartlessly left him behind – and in the most yellow-bellied way possible! After all the times she had called him a coward in the past, this final blow cut like a knife.

He would have described his heartache as the music of a great orchestra. At times it was quiet and allowed him to function, at other times the violins would play and he would be sad, and at times, there was a flute playing, and he was able to remember her with fondness, which was rare though, and he enjoyed the moment. Right now, it would rise to a crescendo, and the anger would burst from his chest in a vicious shout of excruciating anguish.

“Miles?” Lana placed a hand on his arm, her sweet voice filled with concern. “Miles, are you OK?”

He turned to face her then, his heartache rapidly being replaced by the overly familiar feelings of anger and betrayal, which seemed to be synonymous to him regarding anything related to people with the name Von Karma. He could’ve laughed at the question. OK? Of course, he wasn’t OK! He wasn’t sure he would be OK, ever again!

“Lana, do you believe in signs?” He asked abruptly. “As in perhaps certain heuristic signals from the universe, trying to tell you something, which you are either too blind or too stubborn, to take immediate take notice of?”

The Interpol Agent placed her hands upon either side of her former lover’s head and gazed sorrowfully up into his eyes so he could see the empathetic heartache within the teal depths, which he knew reflected his own.

“You mean, have I ever wondered sometimes fate is trying to tell me just throw in the towel?” She whispered dolefully. “That perhaps, if I can’t be with the one whom I love, I should try to love the one I’m with?”

Miles nodded stiffly.

“Like right now, with us both finding out the devastating news about Jake and Franziska? Do you wonder if maybe all of this happened because it’s some sort of sign that perhaps neither of us is meant to be with the ones whom we believed we were fated for?” Lana’s eyes were welling up again. “Yes, I do think it’s time I paid heed to these … signs. I’ve tried to deny that there’s still something buried between us, Miles, but you can’t tell me that you don’t feel it too. Perhaps that’s why Franziska left you. Maybe she sensed something, which you and I have been trying too hard to ignore.”

“I don’t care to think about what she was thinking anymore.” He closed his eyes. “She’s made her bloody choice! I just know that right now, I am too angry to think straight and I wish I could hurt her back the way she has hurt me…”

“Don’t get angry and vengeful.” She brought his face down so that his forehead was resting against hers as she peered into his dejected gaze. “What has happened, has happened, life will go on, and eventually, you will find peace. You could even choose to take this as a sign, Miles. I know you said that you were thinking about trying to have another baby and that the two of you have had heartache in that department in the past. Maybe… you and me… I don’t know. Maybe I could…”

“Stop.” He cut in harshly. “I – I don’t want to talk right now.”

Limpid, long-lashed turquoise orbs gazed into stormy sterling ones.

“So, what do you want to do then?”

“I don’t know anything, anymore,” he responded gruffly “But I do know, without question or doubt, just how badly want to kiss you right now, Lana Skye.”

He trailed his finger over her jaw and down her throat, his stare never unlocking from hers. As he leaned over her, she felt a heightened awareness of every part of her body that touched a part of his – the edge of his hip pressed to hers, his chest sliding against her own, his fingers tracing from her wrists to her forearms, to thread through her hair and tilt her head up, then framing her face. He held her in place, lips near her ear. When he kissed the sensitive spot, her breath shuddered at the familiar sensation and she closed her eyes. Her head swam, and she was drawing in short bursts of air as if she was surfacing every few seconds before diving deeper.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, and then slowly, ever so slowly, his lips began their descent down toward hers…

Eric Clapton – Tears In Heaven

German Translation:

Ich glaube, ich spinne! – I think I’m going crazy!

Ich glaub mich knutscht ein Elch! – I can’t believe it!