Page 16 of Overruled

“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?”

“Relevance,” I force out, narrowing my eyes when they meet his.

He turns back to Bianca. “I’m sorry to ask about such delicate matters, but I assure you, Mrs. Casiraghi, it is relevant.”

She says nothing, only nodding. “Ask what you want to ask, Mr. Hart.”

“Isn’t it true that weeks after withdrawing your petition for divorce back in 1994, it came to light that your trust fund suffered considerable losses due to bad investments?”

“Objection,” I blurt out. “Hearsay. There was no evidence entered in disclosure to prove that claim.”

Ezra moves to sift through the binder at his seat, pulling out two copies of a stapled document and passing one to me. “This was just brought to our attention today. I was going to formally submit it as soon as possible.”

I skim the financial record he’s given me, overviewing what appears to be the account housing Bianca’s trust. Just as he said, there was a significant loss shown in late 1994. I look up to find Bianca’s eyes. This is also something she should have told me. What the fuck is going on?

“Mrs. Casiraghi,” Ezra goes on. “Is it correct that these two events occurred within the same month?”

I watch as Bianca looks past Ezra, following her line of sight as I notice her looking at Lorenzo.

Her husband looks smug, but when I look back at my client, there’s a spark of sadness in her eyes that wasn’t there before.

A crack in her armor that is entirely unlike her.

She shakes it off before giving Ezra her attention again.

“It is true that these two things occurred close together. One has no bearing on the other.”

Ezra nods, taking a breath before turning to look at me. I’ve already caught sight of his father, who looks pleased, but strangely, Ezra doesn’t. If anything…he looks apologetic.

“Pass the witness,” he tells me quietly.

Alexander pats Ezra on the back as he takes his seat as if offering congratulations, and I quietly seethe in mine, my teeth grinding as I just barely manage to keep my irritation in check.

“I’ll reserve for trial,” I manage.

“We are off the record at four thirty-six,” the court reporter chirps from the corner, signaling the end.

I feel decidedly less confident than I did only moments before, this new information sure to raise doubt in a juror’s mind.

Everything in me wants to pull Bianca aside and grill her about what the hell just happened, but I know it will make us look unprepared, so I force myself to wait until we’re alone.

She leaves almost immediately, and I wonder if she will wait outside for me or slip away so that I’ll have to chase her down.

She’s determined to make my job difficult.

“Well, that was exciting,” Alexander says as he approaches me, his leering smile back in place as I pack away my things. “Good sport.”

I narrow my eyes. “These are people’s lives we’re dealing with. I would hardly call it sport.”

“It’s all sport from where we’re standing,” he chuckles.

“We’re nothing but gladiators in another’s arena, after all.

” I blink back at him with disbelief, but he’s already turned away from me to give his attention to Ezra.

“Good work today, Ezra. Come to the house this evening. Your mother would love to have dinner.”

Ezra doesn’t look up from where he’s still scratching notes down in his seat, but he gives a tight nod all the same. Alexander leaves us alone after that, everyone else having already filed out, and I decide if I never have to see Alexander Hart again, it will be too soon.

“I’m sorry about what he said,” Ezra says softly. “He can be…challenging.”

“He can be a real dick,” I snort. “No offense.”

To my surprise, Ezra’s mouth twitches in a smile. “None taken.”

“I hope he’s better to you than he is to everyone else, because fuck.”

There’s a flash of something across Ezra’s face, but I can’t place it. He finally packs his things back into his briefcase, pushing away from the table. “I was against him coming, by the way.”

“Why? You’re on the same team, after all,” I grouse.

Ezra’s lips turn down, a wrinkle forming between his brows like he’s considering that and realizing that it doesn’t suit, which I find odd.

“I assume it was for my benefit,” I huff, changing the subject. I don’t like the almost pained expression on his face. “Probably thought he could intimidate me.”

There’s a hint of Ezra’s real smile, the tightness around his eyes lessening just a bit. “Are you saying I don’t intimidate you, Dani?”

“I think you wish you did.”

“Intimidation is at the bottom of my list of things I’d like to do to you,” he teases.

I frown at him, my chest heating with both annoyance and attraction. Two sides of one coin that’s constantly being flipped inside me where Ezra is concerned. “Do you always have to make a joke out of everything? Is there anything you take seriously?”

“I…” He pauses, frowning again. “I take a lot of things seriously.”

“Doesn’t look like it from where I’m standing.”

Ezra sighs, looking genuinely weary. It’s another new side to him. I seem to be seeing a lot of new sides to him lately. “Do we always have to do this? This stupid game where you pretend you hate me? We both know you don’t.”

“What?” I splutter. “What are you talking about?”

“Things would be a lot easier if you would just acknowledge that you’re attracted to me. You don’t have to spit venom at me every waking moment just to try to convince yourself that you aren’t.”

My eyes go wide. “I’m not trying to convince myself of anything.”

“Then why are you going to wind up back in my bed?”

“I…” I grit my teeth. I can’t tell if he’s genuinely annoyed, or if this is all just another game to get me riled up. I decide not to play into it. I take a deep breath to steady myself, blowing it out and willing myself to calm. “You’re right.”

Ezra looks surprised. “I am?”

“Yes. I’m attracted to you. Clearly.”

“See?” He beams. “Was that so hard?”

“Which is why we really have to stop doing this.”

His smile falters. “Stop doing what?”

“This.” I gesture between us. “It can’t go on. And I admit that I’m as much to blame for it going on as long as it did as you are, but it won’t end well. Neither of us wants anything more than sex, and that’s not worth the complications of keeping this up for longer than we already have.”

“It doesn’t have to be complic—”

“Sex is always complicated,” I sigh. “Look at us right now! I can’t even be in the same room with you without wanting to either kiss you or punch you in the gut.

And you know as well as I do that any sort of…

connection between us should be reported to each of our clients.

Technically, without their written consent to continue, we’re both playing at grounds for dismissal. ”

Ezra’s eyes widen. “Did you just admit you want to kiss me?”

“I’m saying it doesn’t matter if I do.” I shake my head. “I have too much riding on this to add you in the mix too. We should just end things here and focus on the case.”

“The case,” he echoes.

I nod. “Yes.”

He looks away from me, his eyes fixed on the opposite wall as his mouth purses in thought.

I can almost see a dozen things running through his mind as he tries to decide which one to settle on, but I see the moment that he does.

An expressionless mask comes over his features, and he nods as if to himself, eyes finding mine again.

“All right, Dani,” he says flatly. “If that’s what you want.”

I eye him suspiciously. “That’s it? It’s that easy?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because this isn’t the first time I’ve said we should end it, and you’re usually much less inclined to just agree.”

He shrugs. “I don’t make begging a habit, and if you say you aren’t feeling it anymore, then I guess that’s that.”

“Uh-huh.” I continue to watch him as if he’s going to laugh at any second, making this into another joke, but when he doesn’t, I feel a flood of something coursing through me.

I tell myself it’s relief, but I can’t be sure.

Does relief make your stomach knot? “All right then. So we’ll stick to strictly professional going forward? ”

“Strictly professional,” he repeats. “Can do.”

“Well, I…huh. Okay.” I rub the ends of my hair that have fallen over my shoulder, still eyeing him. “Thank you, Ezra.”

“Of course.”

I keep waiting for him to say something more, and when he remains silent, I’m struck with an overwhelming urge to put distance between us. As if it might be me who does something reckless if I stay here any longer.

“I’ll be in touch,” I tell him. “I have some additional interrogatories.”

He gives me another brief nod. “Sounds good.”

I allow myself one last look, realizing that he really is going to leave it at this, and I tell myself it is relief that I’m feeling as I turn from him to leave the room.

That it’s a smart decision, ending this thing between us.

No good can come of it, it certainly isn’t going anywhere, and I don’t need the distraction. This is a good thing.

Bianca is already gone when I leave the conference room, but I think I expected that.

I suppose that means I’ll need to call her when I get home and try to sort through what happened back there.

It’s not a phone call I’m looking forward to.

I realize too late that I’m still lingering outside the conference room, just standing in front of the door without any real reason as my thoughts swim.

Pretending I don’t know why I’m so distracted.

Telling myself it has everything to do with the professional happenings that just occurred in that room and not the personal ones.

It’s a good thing.

I tell myself that a dozen more times on the walk to my car.