“It would indeed seem I have contracted some weird, incurable disease,” I tease.
She throws her head back and laughs, the melody soothing my soul—the reminder of my responsibility to protect her puts me more on edge than I have been this whole God-forsaken court case. It’s one thing to prosecute a criminal, but when you’re prosecuting a criminal who took the same oath as you, was once your peer and acquaintance, it automatically feels as though a loaded gun is aimed at you and the hyenas are circling, looking for any excuse to pull the trigger.
“C’mon sweetheart, let’s get ready. The faster I get to the office, the sooner I can figure out what the hell is going on.”
T-minus too many hours until this fucking day is over and she’s in my arms.
I drop Chiara off at the boxing ring, and once she confirms she’s inside and with Evie via video call, I tell my driver to head to the office.
When I open the door to my office, I’m met with a welcoming party I didn’t ask for, including a surprise guest I certainly didn’t imagine I would be seeing at this hour—or ever again if I had my way.
“Patrick. Sophia. Ms. Williamson.” I offer greetings with a nod of my head, not once letting my mask of indifference slip, acting as though walking into my goddamn office and finding my father, sister, and ex-fiancée seated there is par for the course.
Sophia shoots me an apologetic look, which tells me inviting my ex-fiancée into the room was my father’s idea.
“Raf, there’s no need for formalities. You can call me Victoria.”
“Considering we’re presenting evidence today, I would assume that you’re here on business, Ms. Williamson,” I say.
“Fine. You want to play the asshole card, then we’ll get right to it.” She always did have claws behind that mask of restraint. I admired that about her once. Except then she turned them on me, and there’s no coming back from that.
“I have it on good authority that the defense intends to enter late evidence that will bring one or more of your victims’ characters and their evidence into disrepute,” Victoria explains. “I am also led to believe if this evidence is presented, it will not be a good look for your law firm.”
“So they got you to come and do their bidding on the side? Strong-arm us into throwing the case?” I grit out.
“No. Work with me to get the judge to drop the criminal charges to misdemeanors. Spare your clients the humiliation,” she says. “Then we can reach a financial settlement with the victims.”
“Not going to happen. We have the right to object and ask for an in-camera review,” I say, finally dropping my bag to the floor and readjusting the knot on my lucky red tie. A reminder of the woman who has become the bright spot in my day and my life. If she were a color, it would be this brilliant shade of red.
“You know Judge Macliven has a track record of allowing video evidence to be shown to the jury,” she counters.
“I think you’re trying to call our bluff,” I retort.
“No, I’m trying to help you give your clients an opportunity to create a future they may never have had enough money to create for themselves,” she says.
“You think a financial settlement will give them their dignity back or make them feel like justice has been served?” I demand harshly.“Or will they just feel like they’ve been tricked by a bunch of power-hungry, disingenuous lawyers who colluded to protect one of our own?”
Sophia stands, smooths out her pencil skirt, and holds her hand out to Victoria. “Thank you for bringing this to our attention,” she says, ushering her to the door. “We’ll take the hour to discuss our options before we head to court.”
I couldn’t be prouder of her at this moment, not only for having the confidence to dismiss Victoria, but also showing her she’s got the backbone to see through the job we started.
“They will be paid handsomely,” my dad says once it’s just us three. “We can negotiate the settlement and request all case files are sealed to avoid reporting of the details.”
“So you’re in favor of taking the deal, Dad? You think we should cut our losses? Let the monster bully us into taking the easy way out?” challenges Sophia.
“Of course I want to see Arty brought to justice; he’s a sexual predator. He’s ruined those girls’ lives. But he’s also got the money to fight them to the bitter end, and he’ll fight dirty if this is any indication.” My dad steeples his fingers under his chin, contemplating his next words. “Is it the ideal outcome for us if we get the criminal charges dropped to a misdemeanor so we can reach a financial settlement? Probably not—it indeed looks like we’ve taken the easy way out. Except this isn’t about us or our egos. It’s about the victims. Do we put them on the stand, make them relive something traumatic only to have the truth picked apart and used against them in cross-examination? Or do we encourage them to let us get the judge to dismiss the criminal charges so they at least get some compensation that might make an extraordinary difference to their lives.” He stands and looks at me. “I’ve been a lawyer for almost forty years. At first, you think good and bad are equivalent to white and black, but the truth is never that simple. It’s layered, colored by so many different nuances that we have to think of it as a spectrum. Sometimes the color of the truth will surprise you.”
He comes to stand between me and Sophia, claps me on the shoulder, and takes Sophia’s hand in his. “I’m going to take my hands off this. I’ve said my piece. You’re the legal counsel on this one, so whatever you both agree is the best way forward is how you should respond to Ms. Williamson’s proposal. Just remember, in this job we constantly need to reassess the goal posts as we go.”
He leaves my office, and Sophia and I are left with one hell of a decision to make.
“Is Arabella still prepared to testify?” I ask her.
“Yes. But Ms. Damiano’s DNA evidence is the strongest by far,” she says ruefully. “What’s the right thing to do here, Raf?”
“I think we need to speak with Ms. Damiano. The evidence can be contested, and at best we can ask for proceedings to pauseso we can deal with the fallout, come up with a counter play if we need to.” I run my hand down my tie. “After what he attempted with you, what he did to Arabella, I’m just not sure I could live with myself knowing I handed him the get-out-of-jail-free card.”
“I agree,” she says. “You’ve got my complete backing.”
