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Sour Patch:

Despite everything, it makes me laugh. In a world of uncertainty, Dani being prickly is a constant. It’s oddly comforting. It even lifts my mood a little.

Me:Don’t miss me too hard.

More dots. Thenmoredots. Then nothing. Then:

Sour Patch:

I laugh out loud, feeling lighter. She really is so prickly. It’s probably weird that I find it endearing.

I refuse to analyze that either.

Eight

Dani

“Are you nervous?”

Bianca arches one thin brow from her seat beside me. “No. You will ask questions. I will listen. What is there to be nervous about?”

I feel myself grin. I should have known better than to ask. I’ve learned in the weeks since I met her that there is very little that seems to ruffle Bianca Casiraghi. “I wanted to do this back at my firm,” I tsk. “I should have known they’d push to do it here on their own turf.”

“Does it matter?”

“Not in the grand scheme of things,” I tell her, checking the time on my phone as we step off the elevator. “But I hate knowing that they’re probably just trying to intimidate you.”

“They can try,” Bianca chuckles.

“That’s the spirit.” I wave to Maggie at the front desk as we pass her. “Remember, you won’t be able to say anything unless you’re being deposed, and when you are, you can answer allquestions asked of you even if there’s an objection. This is all preliminary. A judge will decide if they’re admissible or not.”

“I know the rules, Danica,” she says primly.

I smirk over at her as we head down the main hall. “Just making sure there are no more surprises in store for me.”

“You are being cute,” she says, sounding amused. “I will be good.”

“I appreciate it.”

When we reach the chosen conference room, I open the door to follow Bianca inside. My eyes find Ezra immediately, not only because they seem to be hardwired to pick him out in a room, but also because he seems to be in a quiet but heated discussion with an older man that I haven’t seen before. He’s almost as tall as Ezra, his salt-and-pepper hair combed back and his mustache neatly trimmed.

His bright blue eyes land on me when we enter the room, piercing and calculating as they hold mine. I make sure to hold his gaze, having no intention of being intimidated. Ezra turns to follow the older man’s line of sight, and where he would normally shoot me a playful grin that would make my stomach swoop in that frustrating way I’ve come to know—right now he looks almost pained. Apologetic, even. It’s strange.

“Ezra,” I say in greeting, my eyes flitting between him and the older man. “Cocounsel again?”

There’s a thin-lipped smile on the older man’s mouth, one that does nothing but stir a sense of unease. “My apologies, Ms. Pierce.” He steps forward to close the distance between us, offering his hand. “I asked if I might sit in today. Alexander Hart. Managing partner.”

Ah. I see it now. There really is a striking resemblance betweenhim and his other son. Ezra must take after his mother, because the differences between him and the other men in his family are night and day.

I manage to keep the wariness I’m feeling off my face, the idea of Alexander Hart wanting to listen in not sitting well with me. Mostly because there’s no good reason for it.

“Has something happened that I’m unaware of?”

Alexander waves his hand casually. “No, no. Nothing like that. Such a potentially high-profile case…we like to stay on top of things in my office.” Another smile that more closely resembles a leer. “You understand.”

“Of course,” I answer tightly.

I notice Lorenzo sitting at the far end of the table then, pointedly not looking at us. There’s a middle-aged man behind him setting up a camera and another man about my age on the other side, tucked away in another chair looking nervous. I have to assume that’s my first witness.