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“Does anyone else work on the floor where his office resides?”

“Well, no. Not on our floor.”

“So for the most part, it’s just you and Mr. Casiraghi on the top floor.”

“That’s…correct.”

“I imagine Mr. Casiraghi’s computer is password protected though, correct?”

“All company computers are password protected.”

“And the only people with access to Mr. Casiraghi’s computer are you and him, yes?”

“Objection,” Ezra calls. “Asked and answered. We’ve already established that Mr. Andrews has access to Mr. Casiraghi’s computer and email.”

I grit my teeth, exhaling through my nostrils slowly. “Mr. Andrews, in your opinion, would it not be incredibly difficult for someone other than Mr. Casiraghi or yourself to gain access to Mr. Casiraghi’s personal computer without the password?”

“Foundation,” a voice other than Ezra’s cuts in with a menacing edge. “Lacks foundation. Do you have any IT experience, Mr. Andrews?”

I turn to regard Alexander, who looks less collected now—giving me a hard stare from his seat at the table.

“Well, no,” Mr. Andrews starts. “I—”

I raise a hand to stop him, still holding Alexander’s gaze. “You don’t have to answer that, Mr. Andrews,” I say pointedly. “One riot, one ranger, Mr. Hart. Ezra is taking the deposition of the defendant. You have no grounds to speak here.”

I see something dangerous flash in the old man’s eyes, but he remains dutifully silent. I hope that my eyes say what I can’t, that I’m not intimidated by him, however much he’d like me to be. I notice a quirk of Ezra’s mouth that might be the beginnings of a smile when I spot him in my peripheral, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. I hear his echoed objection after, but I’ve already got a redirect ready.

If Alexander Hart takes anything away from this little sit-in, I hope it’s that I am not a woman to be fucked with. Regardless…he doesn’t say another word for the remainder of the deposition.

•••

It takes fivehours for us to cycle through the list of witnesses we’ve lined up (most of them mine), and by the time we’ve reached the end of the agenda on which Ezra is to question Bianca, I don’t feel half bad about the progress we’ve made today. Between the various employees speaking as character witnesses and household staff who came in for questioning, I’ve been able to make quite a few points in our favor.

Unfortunately, so has Ezra.

It’s already been forty-five minutes of him pulling at various threads as he prods Bianca on everything from her honeymoon to her last fight with Lorenzo—but much to my delight, Bianca doesn’t seem ruffled in the slightest. She really might be made of iron, this woman.

“Mrs. Casiraghi,” Ezra says politely. “I just have one more thing to discuss, if that’s okay.”

She gives him a stiff nod. “Go on then.”

“Just to be clear, we’re here today because you are formally accusing your husband of breaching the infidelity clause in your prenuptial agreement, therefore entitling you to half of all marital assets, correct?”

“That’s correct,” she answers without any hesitation.

“Mm-hmm.” Ezra nods thoughtfully. “Tell me, this isn’t the first divorce petition you’ve filed against your husband. Is it?”

My heart rate quickens. What the fuck?

Bianca, to her credit, remains cool. “That’s correct.”

“But you withdrew that petition shortly after filing, correct?”

“That is also correct.”

I’m staring at the side of Ezra’s face with my mouth slightly parted. “Where are you going with this?”

“Is there an objection there, Dani?”