Sometimes, I feel bad about ruining the lives of men. Sometimes, I catch glimpses of a different version and see past the carefully crafted one meant to pull unsuspecting people into his web. Those days, despite the research we’ve done to ensure our client is in the right and that the man I’m currently trying to pull evidence from is, in fact, a piece of shit, I feel the tiniest niggling of guilt about deceiving them to get their deepest, darkest secrets with a simple smile and a bat of my eyelashes. Not this time.
