Judge: Bad Boys of Boston, #1

By Maggie Kay

I am Roman Judge III. Firstborn son of a wealthy and influential lineage that has held sway
over this city for generations. I command authority and prestige with an iron grip, firmly entrenched
in a legacy that spans three generations of legal prowess and advisory services to Bostons criminal
underbelly.
My destiny is entwined with this legacy, a dark tapestry woven by my forebears. I operate in the
shadows, as morally compromised as those who line my pockets. Where theres a legal crevice, I
exploit it; a witness to be swayed, I pay the price. I specialize in cleaning up the messes of men who
should be confined to prison cells for eternity, all while amassing a substantial fortune. Their
bloodstains become mine, and the justice denied to their victims is the result of my calculated
erasure.
The Judge Empire is poised for my ascension, a position nearly within my grasp until Indiana came
into the picture. Her piercing baby blue eyes bore into my soul, unravelling the control I held so
tightly, leaving me yearning for her touch. Yet, I know I cannot claim it without shattering her
spirit—a touch that jeopardizes everything I've worked to build.
Indiana is well aware of the darkness that consumes me. She resists me fiercely, knowing that
succumbing to my desires would taint her conscience and innocence with the stains of my sordid
deeds. Despite this awareness, my craving for her persists.
Deep within, I acknowledge my inherent moral decay. I recognize that I will eventually yield to my
temptations, consequences be damned. There is a corrupted part of me that hungers to possess her,
to ruin her, and I find myself increasingly indifferent to the fallout that awaits.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maggie Kay
• Release date: Mar 11, 2024
• ISBN: 9798223005865

Book preview

Judge- Playlist

MAGGIE KAY- JUDGE SPOTIFY Playlist

Play With Fire - Sam Tinnesz, Yacht Money

Darkside - Neoni

Gallows - Katie Garfield

White Noise (R3hab Remix)-Ella Vos, R3HAB

Silence - Marshmello-Khalid 

Hard Times - Visions Visions,Congratulationz

I Found - Amber Run 

Eyes Don’t Lie - Isabel LaRosa

Power Ove Me - Dermot Kennedy 

War of Hearts - Ruelle

Middle Of the Night - Elley Duh’e

Ceilings - Lizzy McAlpine

Morally Grey - Nation Haven Edition- April Jai, Nation Haven

You Put a Spell on Me - Austin Giorgio

I Feel Like I’m Drowning - Two Feet 

Exhale - Ella Vos, R3HAB

Surrender - Natalie Taylor

Sinners - Thomas LaRosa

I’m Yours - isabel LaRosa.

Are You with Me - Nilu

Infinity - Jaymes Young

Control - Zoe Wees

Infinity - Jaymes Young

Arcade - Duncan Laurence

Train Wreck - James Arthur 

The Other Side - Ruelle

The Other - Lauv

Dancing With Your Ghost - Sasha Alex Sloan

Hold On - Chord Overstreet

Afterlife - Hailee Steinfel

Table of Contents

Playlist

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Epilogue

Maggie Kay Books

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Prologue

Roman

I AM ROMAN JUDGE III. My clients and friends call me Judge, much to my father’s distaste.

The Judge family is wealthy, powerful, and prestigious in Boston, and we dominate the rule and statute in this city.  

It’s always been in my blood. It was not just my destiny but my Legacy—three generations of lawyers and advisors to the criminal underworld in Boston. Like a rite of passage, I have always known this is what I would be. There was no choice about it. I’m my father's eldest son, and therefore, I must continue on with the Judge's heritage. Everything I have learned has been passed down to me by my father and his before that. My son too will become the very thing I tried so hard not to be like... them. 

Being highly skilled in all aspects of criminal law, if there is a loophole, I will find it. A witness to bribe, I pay it. I clean up the mistakes and indiscretions of men that belong behind bars to rot for eternity, and I make a lot of money doing so. 

I’m just as corrupt as the men that pay me. The blood on their hands mark mine. Their victims do not get the justice they deserve, because I erase it. In the past sixty years, my grandfather and father built an empire. Police officers, politicians, magistrates, and professionals, right down to the garbage collectors, are on our payroll. There is not a corner, ally, or building in Boston we do not have some kind of ownership or access to. The community fears us, and the criminals respect us. 

Of course, there are always a handful of honorable men or women who would rather die than sell their souls to the devil, but mostly, when you wave a big wad of cash at them, followed by a threat, their silence is guaranteed. 

Five years ago, my grandfather passed away and now my father’s failing health will not allow him to keep up with the demands of our business. He intends to leave me in charge of the company, but not until I conform to the person, he expects me to be. I am to retire the dreams and ideals I have and surrender my soul to the devil... him. Resign to the fact I’m to step out from his shadows and be the perfect mold of the man I so despise. 

My father has given me until the end of the year to marry, or at least commit to, or I’m to marry his desired choice, Georgina Sullivan. With half the year gone already, that does not leave me much time.  

Georgina is beautiful, and I’m certain she would make a wonderful wife. She is from one of the wealthiest families in Massachusetts, and our tie would benefit both families. However, she does not challenge me. Her compliant nature is tedious and quite frankly, boring.  She’s the perfect silent daughter as she performs her duties to keep her daddy happy. I need a woman who commands my presence. A woman who stands for only herself, except me, of course.

My father threatens to take everything from me over this. Everything I have worked so goddamn hard for. I know that I must take this seriously, but I’m a grown-ass man, and I intend to choose my own wife. Sure, I could just select any number of women and make her my wife. I certainly have no shortage of willing participants. Yet, somewhere in the darkness of my soul, I know that would be a mistake. I intend to take over the business and run it on my terms, my father be damned. 

I am the eldest son of three, and the company will be handed down to my brother, Liam, if I fail to comply with my father’s terms. Only eighteen months younger than I, Liam has a wife, two sons, a daughter, and my father's favor. 

If I don’t play my cards right, I will lose it all. 

Chapter One

Roman

MY HEART RATE SPIKES as I take a seat at the boardroom table and stare into the ambitious eyes of my brother, Liam. His crisp white shirt peaks strategically through an Armani Navy suit that is tailored to perfection. His exquisite wife most likely gave him a blow job before his morning coffee, then he would have kissed his unnaturally well-behaved children goodbye before getting into his black Mercedes-AMG Coupe and making it to the office in impeccable timing. Pft... His life is so pathetically perfect. It makes me sick. 

Late as usual. Liam raises his eyebrows with a pleased grin. I want to punch the smugness right out of him. 

My father's eyes cut to mine. Roman, this is unacceptable. When I say nine am sharp, I mean get your ass here by eight. Your brother has been here since six this morning tying up all your loose ends from Peter's case yesterday. He lowers his head, shaking it with disappointment.

Yep, that's me, a big fat disappointment. 

Actually, Father, I was here until three this morning finishing Peter's case I’m late this morning because I was chasing a new lead that can ensure we win.

The old man slams his hand on the table and gives me another disapproving glare.

Dammit, Roman, why didn’t you call me with this? he lets out a long-frustrated sigh. You can’t just go around Boston on your own chasing possible leads. We have people for that. You are going to get yourself killed being so reckless.

I took Charles with me, I correct him. Despite what you may think of me, I am not that stupid.

Well? he changes his tone. What became of it? Can we use them?

The Judge will not accept a new witness this late in the case, Liam pipes in.

Like hell, he won’t. It surprises me he can even walk around straight with how much cash we line his pockets with. I look at Liam with confidence and little pretension. He will accept the witness.

Good, My father approves. Now, on a separate matter, we have the mayor’s fundraiser on Saturday night. Your assistants have been given all the details; I expect you both to be in attendance. I can’t express to you enough, Roman, that you need to be on your best behavior. Marcus Knight will be one of the guests, and we are yet to win him over. This will be a very important opportunity that you cannot... He lowers his eyebrows at me. I repeat. Cannot screw up.

You say that like I am an embarrassment to you. Need I remind you, Father, I am the one who won his son over last winter. Judas Knight was a big kink in our chain, and I... I accentuate, I was the one who got him on our payroll.

That may be so, Roman, but my father glares at me with contempt as he repeats my words, need I remind you that you also slept with his wife, after the fact.

You think you can keep your dick in your pants for one night, brother. Liam sniggers. I strike my eyes at him with a warning stare then smile wide.

That’s not what your wife asked me last night, brother. I taunt him with a laugh.

Liam’s face turns red as he leaps from his chair and lunges for me over the table. I stand, stepping back with my hands in the air, looking at my father as he tries to hold Liam back.

Control your son, please, Father. This is a place of business, I say, smiling with disdain.

Enough! my father yells, deep and demanding. Pull yourself together, Liam. He shoves him back in his seat, before turning his attention to me. When the hell are you going to grow up, Roman? Straightening his suit jacket, he stands at the head of the table. How am I supposed to retire when both of you act like this? Clearly, neither of you are ready. He points his finger at my sibling and then at me. Sort this shit out before I sort it for you. Leaving for the door, he turns back to me. Georgiana will be your date Saturday night, Roman, if you know what’s good for you.

Liam slams the folder in front of him closed and stands, watching my father leave the room. He glares at me intently before standing, then calmly walks toward me. My wife is so out of your league, brother, It’s actually pathetic. But you keep dreaming, Roman, if that’s what helps you sleep better all alone at night. He taps me on the back. I laugh to myself as he leaves the room. If he only knew his wife sucked me off in the pool house ten minutes before he proposed to her.

Back in my office, I sort through all this morning's emails. My assistant June knocks on the door briefly before entering with a coffee and a stack of paperwork. 

Excuse me, Mr. Judge. She places the coffee on my desk. These documents require your signature, and I moved your twelve o'clock meeting with Mr. Sullivan as requested.

Thank you, June. I smile, taking the papers from her. She politely smiles back and leaves my office. I take note of her ugly, old lady shoes as she leaves and sighs. I asked her yesterday to move my ten o’clock meeting with Mr. Timms, not my twelve o’clock with Mr. Sullivan, but I didn't have the heart to tell her.  She’s so old, it’s a wonder she doesn’t need a walking stick. 

She has worked for Judge & Sons Legal for forty-nine years and used to be my grandfather's assistant. After I slept my way through five of my own assistants, my father’s punishment was June. It was the only way he knew how to get me to keep my hands to myself and concentrate on my work. I was younger then and far less disciplined, so I understood his motives. However, now, June is not as sharp as she once was. I mean she is a dinosaur. It takes her forever to do anything, and she forgets things constantly. I desperately need to hire someone to help her, seeing she’d sooner die than retire.

I stare at my phone for the longest time before texting Georgina and asking her to accompany me to the mayor’s fundraiser. Within five seconds, I get an acceptance with the color of her dress so I can match my suit and tie with her. God, that was fast, yet so predictable. Georgina would have been anticipating my invitation. Highly social, she is aware of every upcoming event like it is her job. In fact, she most likely knows the full guest list for Saturday night, right down to what canapés will be served. I’m almost tempted to wear a suit that will clash with her dress, just to teach her the element of surprise. 

Daddy says jump, and Georgina asks how high. It’s pitiful. It amazes me how a woman of her beauty and stature could be so confident socially, yet such a coward when it comes to her father. I thought I had daddy issues, but the more I get to know her, the more I see how conditioned she is. Her father has molded the perfect compliant daughter, and it reminds me so much of my brother, it makes me sick. 

Sir. Your ten o'clock is here. June pops her head through the door.

My ten o'clock? I ask her. I checked my calendar this morning. I didn’t have a ten o'clock appointment.

Mr. Sullivan, she replies, looking just as confused as I am. She was meant to move his twelve o'clock meeting today to next week, not earlier today. I have too much work on Peter's case to prepare. 

Right, well I guess you better send him in then. I don’t bother to tell her she screwed up again because she will probably forget anyway by the time she gets back to her desk. I let out a long sigh and look up at the ceiling. God help me get through this fucking day without sending June to her grave.

Chapter Two

Indie

I HAVE TWENTY-ONE DOLLARS and two cents in my bank account. After paying rent and utilities, that’s all I have left. I’m surprised I even have that after last month's unexpected rent increase. I guess I will be eating all my meals at work this week... again.

Straightening my hair in the mirror, I pause for a moment to really take myself in. I look a lot older than my twenty-three years. The last five years have really taken a toll on me. Every day is a struggle. I study, work, sleep, and somewhere in between all that, take care of my little brother. I say little, however, Austin is a good foot and a half taller than I, but he’s only seventeen, and like it or not, I am his only living relative who is willing to take care of him. In truth though, I have been taking care of him my whole life. Dad took off not long after he was born, and we have not seen nor heard of him since. My mom did the best she could to look after us, that is the best she knew how, and well, that was not much. 

Most of the memories I had of my dad faded away with my youth. I wish I could say he made a lasting impact, but my recollections fall short. I was only six years old when he left us. No goodbyes, no calls, no letters. I remember how sad it made my mom, and oddly enough, I remember the whiskers he left on the bathroom sink after shaving one morning. Then he left for the day and never came home again. She was never the same after that, and I hated him for it. 

Mom was a free spirit; she didn’t believe in boundaries and rules. She lived by her own accord and never apologized for it. More of a friend than a mother, I learned to take care of myself at a young age. Too young actually. It was nothing for her to disappear for days at a time and then return as though she had never left. Strange men often frequented our home, and I was told to stay in my room and look after Austin because she had to pay rent this week. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized what she was doing. Even now that she is gone, I am still ashamed to say it. Mom sold her body to keep a roof over our heads. 

Grief and selfishness took hold of her, and drug use became the norm. Often, I would return home from school and have to wash her vomit-covered body, put her to bed, clean up her discarded needles off the sofa, and beg our neighbors for some food. On her good days, she would pack us lunch and send us off to the bus with a smile and kiss. They are the memories I chose to keep close to the surface. The ones where she would comb my hair and sing to me. Her dancing in the kitchen, attempting to cook us dinner, our impromptu adventures, and twilight picnics by the Charles River. That's how I want to remember her, because if I allow the bad ones in, they haunt me, they enrage me, and I can’t afford to be bitter. I have Austin to take care of.

The day I turned eighteen, my graduation year at school, my mom disappeared again. Days passed into weeks and then months until I realized she wasn’t coming back this time. I filed a missing report with the police that resulted into nothing. They marked her as a drug addict and a prostitute. I found out she had been arrested twice previously and even served thirty days in the county jail.  It explains why she went missing for a whole month when I was fifteen. That was when I got my first job. I worked every afternoon after school and most weekends at the local donut shop. I had to keep the landlords from evicting us, and even though I barely made enough to cover rent, we somehow managed. Although, eventually, her welfare payments stopped coming, and things got even worse.

Austin and I frequently ate meals at the local homeless shelter and lived off the leftover donuts and hotdog buns from my work that the owner Mr. Harris allowed me to take home. He would even sometimes give me a bonus in my paycheck. I think he could see times were tough for me and felt sorry for me.

Graduation day came, and I scanned the crowd for my mom, hoping she would return to us for such an occasion. Yet all I saw was everyone else’s proud parents and grandparents with tears in their eyes and an empty chair where mine was meant to be. The disappointment was not new to me. I had come to expect it over the years, but I would be lying if I said it didn’t hurt. That was the moment I knew she wasn’t likely ever coming back. Still to this day, I don’t know if she is alive or dead in an alleyway dumpster somewhere.

Did she leave us because she didn’t love us? Or, was she taken from us? Did guilt and regret become too overwhelming and so she abandoned us? Or, did she finally overdose and her dealer discarded her body? The questions never leave me. They accumulate, and they fester, remaining unanswered.  

The state didn’t have time for my brother or me; we were just another statistic. They didn’t inspect our home or verify my capabilities for taking care of Austin. I was eighteen. It took them six whole months before they even came by and did a welfare check. I have a feeling it was Mr. Harris that alerted them to our situation. God, Austin was only twelve years old, and they palmed him off to me like he was a problem they couldn’t solve. I knew then my goals of becoming a professional photographer were a distant dream, and I would have to find another job to support us both. 

Mr. Harris was kind enough to put me on full-time at the donut shop, and then five nights a week I would restock the shelves at our local supermarket. That was until I got caught by one of the bosses for bringing Austin to work with me. He would sleep in the staff room while I worked because I had no one to look after him. The first year on our own was so hard. I look back now and still don’t know how I managed, how we survived.

The second and third year was a little easier as Austin and I developed a flow between us. Mr. Harris got Austin an after-school job, washing cars at his brother's car yard across the street from the shop. It was a cash under the table deal, the extra money allowed us to eat a little better and got our utility bills out of arrears. We no longer waited for Mom to come back, Austin stopped asking about her, and we eventually accepted she was gone.

Austin used to be such a sweet little boy, always wanting to help me in some capacity, always shadowing me. But as he grew more and more into a teenager, it has been a struggle to keep him away from the back streets of Boston. The older he gets, the more defiant he becomes. I used to be able to keep him in line by threatening him with Child Services. I lost count of how many times I said, If you don’t behave, Austin, they will take you from me. 

Now though, he is almost eighteen; the threat has become obsolete. He knows he will soon be of legal age, and my guardianship over him will end. So, he skips school on a regular basis, hangs out with the wrong kind of kids, and gives little regard for my rules. It honestly frightens me, and I don’t know how to stop it. 

I look at the clock on the kitchen wall and hurry to pack away my most prized possession, my Nikon d5600 camera. A little over twelve months ago, I enrolled in the Community College in a photography course and bought the cheapest professional camera I could afford. Even still, it’s second-hand, but it works. 

I finished the course in six months and have been a freelance photographer ever since. Some weeks are better than others with work coming in. Bar mitzvahs, christenings, and birthday parties take up most of my weekends. Then during the week, I work as a waitress at Barlo’s Diner to supplement my photography income. 

I’m not experienced enough to be doing bigger gigs like weddings and such, which is what pays the bigger dollars. Yet, I have been lucky enough on a few occasions though to be at the right place at the right time to snap a few celebrities and have sold my pictures to some press companies. I like to create art from my photographs and on the weekends when I have no bookings. I head down to the markets to try and sell some of my work.

As I grab my jacket and keys off the kitchen table ready to leave for work, Austin walks through the front door startling me. It’s six in the morning, and he is just getting home? Right away, I feel guilty for not checking in on him last night before I went to bed. I didn’t even realize he wasn’t home.

Hey, he mumbles as he pulls off his jacket.

Hey yourself, I reply, arching my brows at him. Where the hell have you been?

"You didn’t even know I wasn’t here.