Page 11 of Overruled
Six
Dani
Typically, there are two ways a mediation meeting can go.
One, the couple remains amicable, having a predetermined plan for how to divide their assets and cordially move through the motions of doing that; or two, chaos ensues.
I have seen women chuck vases at their cheating husbands.
I have watched men devolve into toddlers, copying everything their wives say just to annoy them.
Sitting in the largest conference room here at our firm, I have no idea how this one is going to play out.
Mr. Casiraghi is exactly what I expected him to be.
He exudes power; his suit probably cost more than my entire wardrobe, and his white hair is slicked back and combed over to hide the way it thins at the top.
He hasn’t said a word since he arrived with both Ezra and Eli Hart ten minutes ago, and as much as Bianca and I prepared for this meeting, I have to admit that Ezra’s firm sending both brothers has me on edge.
Especially since Eli rarely handles divorce cases, from what I’ve gleaned from the papers.
Bianca doesn’t seem to be suffering any of my reservations.
Her shoulders are squared and her spine is straight, and she hasn’t taken her eyes off her soon-to-be-ex-husband in the entire time they’ve been in the same room.
Her stare is confident and determined, everything about her showing no fear of what lies before her. God, I want to be her when I grow up.
My thoughts inevitably wander to my parents, as they often do during these proceedings. How easy had it been for them to divide everything up? How simple had it been to take my entire life and turn it on its head?
We did this for you.
“So,” the mediator starts, tearing me out of the past, thankfully. “I think we’re all here if we want to begin.”
I shoot a glance at Eli, who is watching all of us from down his nose. “I wasn’t informed you would be bringing cocounsel.”
“It was…” Ezra clears his throat, frowning. “It was a last-minute decision.”
Eli’s eyes narrow slightly, not enough for him to appear outwardly rude, but enough to make me want to flip him the bird all the same. “Do you have some issue with my being here, Ms. Pierce?”
“No issue,” I say as placidly as I can manage. “I just like to be kept informed.”
“Well,” Eli says with a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. “Consider yourself informed.”
Wow, fuck this guy.
I catch Ezra’s nostrils flaring slightly, his mouth in a tight line before he says, “We’re ready to proceed if you and your client are, Dani.”
Eli casts an odd look at his brother at the casual use of my nickname, but I ignore it.
“All right,” the mediator tries again, sounding a little wary as he flips through his notes. “I see here that Mrs. Casiraghi is requesting a complete division of all shared assets?”
I nod. “That’s correct.”
“We aren’t in agreement,” Ezra adds.
“I see,” the mediator says.
Mr. Casiraghi finally speaks up with a scoff. His accent is thicker than Bianca’s, the inflection on his words making what he’s saying sound harsher. “My wife has no grounds for such a thing. She signed the prenup, yes?”
“That’s true,” the mediator points out. He flips another page in his notes. “I have your signature right here, Mrs. Casiraghi.”
“We have reason to believe the terms of the prenup have been breached,” I say.
Eli makes an amused sound. “Circumstantial reason.”
“I can handle this,” Ezra says tightly, using a tone I’m not sure I’ve ever heard from him.
Eli shrugs as if to say “Whatever,” lacing his fingers together over the conference room table and continuing to watch what’s happening in front of him like some sort of bored spectator.
“My client has several exchanges between your client and your client’s mistress suggesting an affair,” I tell Ezra, pointedly not looking at his brother. “I gave you copies of these exchanges during disclosure.”
“And again,” Ezra says calmly, all business for once, thankfully. “This evidence is circumstantial. It can’t be proven that it was our client that sent these emails.”
“They were from his computer,” I snort.
Ezra waves me off. “In an office that several people have access to. Any one of the employees working near him could have fabricated those exchanges.”
“And what purpose would that serve?”
“For all we know,” Ezra says, “those emails could have been sent at the behest of your client in order to frame her husband so that she could claim her prenup terms had been violated.”
I rear back, feeling hot anger lick down my spine. “That’s not a claim you can substantiate.”
“It’s nothing any of us haven’t seen before,” he answers softly, looking almost like he’s trying to placate me. “You know that’s true, Dani.”
I hate that my name on his tongue still makes my stomach flutter, even now. Would it kill him to not use it in this setting? The last thing I need is to get flustered in front of his dick brother.
“That’s something a judge would have to decide, I suppose,” I answer stiffly.
The mediator clears his throat. “Perhaps both parties might be willing to discuss some sort of compromise to avoid trial?”
I’m opening my mouth to answer, but Bianca chooses this moment to enter the conversation.
“There will be no compromise,” she says matter-of-factly, eyes still locked on her husband. “You have taken most of my life. Half of yours is a fair exchange.”
“Don’t be hysterical, Bianca,” Mr. Casiraghi huffs. “You don’t need the money, and you have no proof that there is anyone else. You can’t admit to yourself that our marriage has run its course, so you fabricate lies about me in revenge.”
“Lies,” Bianca chuckles. “You think you’re clever, Lorenzo.
You always thought yourself to be clever.
You forget who it was that helped forge the empire you are so greedy with.
Who gave up weekends and holidays to help get your business off the ground.
You may have beguiled me into signing a prenup with lies of it being for my protection, but I know now that it was never money that I needed protection from. It was your black heart.”
“Always the actress,” Mr. Casiraghi says with a roll of his eyes.
Bianca’s stare is hard, the seconds passing in pregnant silence as everyone at the table waits with bated breath for her next words. She doesn’t smile when she says them, doesn’t show any sense of triumph or gleeful satisfaction—and given her words, I find that astonishing.
“Tell them about the account, Lorenzo.”
Her husband goes still, his smug expression flickering with concern for a brief moment before he tugs down the mask again. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You don’t?” Bianca smirks. “You have so much money that you misplaced an entire account?”
Ezra’s eyes meet mine from across the table, looking for answers that I don’t have. I have no idea what Bianca is talking about. I reach to tentatively press my fingertips against her forearm, but she shakes me off, leaning in to hold her husband’s gaze.
“Tell them about the account you share with this woman,” she says pointedly. “Tell them how you put millions of dollars into it over three decades.”
My mouth drops open, turning my head to watch as Mr. Casiraghi blanches, a tic in his jaw. “You know nothing .”
Bianca’s grin widens then, the look of it almost feral around her painted red lips. “I know enough, husband.”
“I will not stand for this,” Lorenzo seethes, pushing away from the table. He points a finger at his wife. “You will not like where this ends, Bianca.”
She continues to give him the same sly grin. “I don’t much like it now, Lorenzo.”
His face is turning red now, and he makes a disgusted noise before he storms out of the room, leaving the five of us behind without another word.
Eli frowns as he rises, not even bothering to bid anyone goodbye before he follows.
The rest of us are left stunned in their wake, and I look from Ezra to Bianca to the mediator and back again, trying to rationalize what just happened.
Ezra speaks first. “What account are you talking about?”
“It seems your client did not disclose everything,” I manage to say without portraying my shock.
“If there are undisclosed assets, I can assure you I don’t know about them,” Ezra tells me.
He looks genuinely surprised by this entire thing, and strangely, I find myself believing him. His brother, however, didn’t seem ruffled in the slightest. Curious.
I clear my throat. “It seems like we won’t be reaching a compromise today.”
“No,” Ezra sighs. “It seems like we won’t.”
I take a steady breath to collect myself, regarding the two men in front of me. “Could you give us the room? I’d like some time with my client, please.”
The mediator immediately agrees, leaving hastily as if he wants no part of the drama unfolding in the room. Ezra is frowning at me, a little wrinkle between his eyes as if he’d like to say something, but he nods instead, giving me a lingering look before he leaves Bianca and me alone.
I immediately turn to face her in my chair. “What the hell was that?”
“My husband shares a secret account with his mistress. He has been adding money to it for almost thirty years.”
I gape at her. “And you didn’t think this was important information to give me before today?”
“I wanted to see his face for the first time when he knew that I knew,” she says simply.
Goddamn it.
I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “This is information I could have been digging into, Bianca. I get that you wanted to have a gotcha moment, but I can’t help you if you don’t keep me in the loop.”
“I am sorry for not telling you sooner,” she tells me sincerely.
I feel her hand cover mine, and when I meet her gaze, her expression seems far less confident than it was moments ago.
Right now she looks…worn down. “Lorenzo made a fool of me. For many years. I may never get the answers I deserve, but I want him to feel what he’s done. Do you understand?”