Page 107

I can feel my mouth slowly parting in a shocked expression without my consent, and I stare at the side of Ezra’s face as the sensation of having the wind knocked out of me nearly bowls me over. How did he…? I turn to look at Lorenzo, who looks at me with a smirk. He couldn’t have—there’s nowaythey would have—

“Excuse me?”

Bianca’s slightly stricken tone brings me back to the moment. Her eyes meet mine from across the room, and there is a flicker of hurt and, what’s worse, betrayal in them. Does she think that this ismydoing? She has to know that I would never tell Ezra anything said to me in confidence. Evenifwe’re seeing each other. Something that she’s not even aware of.

So how does he know?

“Mrs. Casiraghi,” Ezra urges calmly. “Is it correct that you accused your husband of infidelity in 1994 before filing for divorce and then withdrew that same petition hardly a month later?”

“I—” Bianca’s eyes dart to me again, looking unsure for the first time since I’ve known her. Looking almostashamed. “That is—it is because—hewasunfaithful.”

“Objection,” Ezra replies softly. “Hearsay.”

“Sustained,” Judge Harding says.

“Mrs. Casiraghi,” Ezra grills. “Does it not seem strange to you thatbothtimes you have filed for divorce from your husband, you have claimed that he was unfaithful without having any kind of concrete evidence?”

Bianca’s cheeks are flushed now. “I—”

“Is it not a fair assessment to say that twice in the course of your marriage you have made bold accusations against my client that at their core are unfounded?”

I need to say something, I need to sayanything. Why am I still frozen?

“No, that is not—”

“It appears to me,” Ezra says with more edge to his tone, clearly going in for the kill, “that your accusations of infidelity are nothing more than a convenient ploy to exact a public vendetta against your husband for your purposes. Does that not seem more feasible than him being unfaithful without any consequences?”

It is Bianca’s helpless expression when her eyes find mine again that finally rouses me to act. “Objection,” I grind out, my heart thumping in my ears as I shoot up from my chair. “Speculation. My client has never been on record making such claims about her petition in 1994.”

“But she just admitted it here for everyone to hear,” Ezra says calmly. “Didn’t she.”

I gape at him for a long moment that feels like hours rather than seconds, the worst possible scenario flickering through my thoughts and leaving me feeling cold and hollow. Because deep down it seems there is only one way that Ezra might have come across a defense like this.

And that possibility is breaking my fucking heart.

Knowing my chances are slim, I have to ask: “Your Honor,” I say with only a slight shake to my tone. “I would like to request a continuance.”

Ezra looks at me with surprise, and I have to force myself to turn my eyes away from him and focus on the judge. I might dosomething drastic if I keep looking at him, like yell at him right here in open court. Or worse, start crying.

Judge Harding looks skeptical. “Ms. Pierce, this case has already seen several continuances.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” I answer tightly. “I’m aware of that, but these new allegations threaten my client’s credibility. I would like the opportunity to gather refuting evidence.”

Judge Harding studies me for a long moment, her thin lips pursing as she peers at me from over her glasses. For a moment, I think she is going to refuse, and I don’t know what I will do if she does. I don’t think I can continue, not when it feels like I’m falling to pieces.

Thankfully, something decides to go my way today. “All right,” she concedes. “I will grant your continuance. I want everyone back here one week from today with their closing arguments, understand?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” I manage quietly.

Bianca still looks as stunned as I feel as the bailiff helps her down from the stand. She steps across the tiles and stops just beside me with accusation in her eyes. “You promised,” she whispers. “You promised I would not be made a fool.”

“Bianca,” I plead. “I didn’t—Ipromise—”

“Your promises are empty,” she cuts me off coldly. “Clearly.” Her fists tighten at her sides. “We will speak tomorrow at your office. I need time today.”

I nod dumbly, because what else can I do?

She’s not even out the door when I start snatching up my things, needing to get out of this room as fast as humanly possible. As if putting distance between myself and Ezra will make the likelihood of his betrayal less possible.