Page 32 of Overruled

Seventeen

Dani

I tell myself that the nerves that have taken up residency in my belly are because of our first session in court this morning and not because it’s the first time I will see Ezra since I fell asleep in his arms. It’s not as true as I’d like it to be, but it keeps me from actively dry heaving into the umbrella holder outside the courtroom.

“Are you all right?”

I give Bianca a tight nod. “I’m fine.”

“It does not inspire confidence for my attorney to appear more nervous than I am,” she chuckles.

“I’m not nervous,” I assure her, inserting false confidence into my voice. “I just want to make sure I have all my ducks in a row.”

Her brow quirks with amusement as I flip through my notes. “I have faith in you, Danica.” She peers into the open double doors to the courtroom where a few people are starting to shuffle in. “I think I will take my seat. Come inside when you have sorted your ducks.”

Cool as a cucumber, Bianca Casiraghi. I could take several leaves out of her book. She breezes into the courtroom like the queen she is, and I watch her glide to her seat at our table at the front and sink into it with infallible grace. Despite the fluttering in my stomach, I can’t help but smile.

“Thinking about me?”

I jolt when I find Ezra standing just beside me. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Sneak up on me.”

He cocks his brow, his mouth twitching. “In public?”

“Shut up,” I mutter.

I can’t help but let my eyes sweep down the length of him. His gray suit hugs him in a way that should be illegal, and I allow myself only a brief moment to appreciate it before I meet his gaze again.

“Where’s your client?”

His lips purse. “Late.”

“You didn’t tell him that being fashionably late to your own divorce trial isn’t looked upon favorably?”

“Tried.” He shrugs, offering me a grin. “Guess there was a bit of a language barrier.”

His smile makes the fluttering in my stomach spark up for reasons other than nerves. Has he always been this beautiful, or have I just never really allowed myself to appreciate it?

“You ready for today?”

“As I’ll ever be,” he muses.

“I’m looking forward to your cockamamie opening arguments.”

His grin widens. “That’s a ten-dollar word.”

“I’m happy to give you a dictionary if it escapes you,” I deadpan.

It doesn’t hit me immediately that we’re just standing outside the courtroom doors smiling at each other, but I can’t pretend that this more familiar banter isn’t comforting. Which is a word that I never thought I would use in regard to Ezra Hart in any capacity.

“We should go in,” I say after a beat, clearing my throat and breaking eye contact to peek back into the courtroom. “I imagine we’ll be starting soon.”

“Probably,” he agrees, even though he makes no move to go.

I catch him still looking at me when I turn back toward him, his gaze a caress. I suppress a shiver at the intensity of it, my chest feeling tight.

“About the other night…”

He perks up, seeming almost eager. “Yeah?”

“I just…” My teeth worry against my lower lip, and I don’t miss the way his eyes flick there. “I just wanted to say that—”

“There you are,” a gruff voice interrupts.

We both turn to catch Lorenzo striding up toward us, his lips turned down in a frown. He looks back and forth between us for a moment, finally deciding to ignore me completely as he gives me his back to face Ezra instead.

“We should go in,” Lorenzo grunts.

Ezra’s brow knits. “We should have gone in ten minutes ago, but you’re late.”

“I had business to attend to. I am here now. Shall we?”

He turns and saunters inside, and Ezra shares a look with me that says he thinks his client as much of an ass as I do, which I find very interesting.

I twist my face into a caricature of Lorenzo’s expression, lowering my voice. “Shall we?”

It’s not like me to be silly, but the beaming smile Ezra gives me makes it worth it. A revelation that takes me completely by surprise.

Who the fuck even am I lately?

“After you, Ms. Pierce,” he says with a gentlemanly wave of his hand.

I feel him close behind when we enter the courtroom, and for the first time since I’ve known him…the thought doesn’t irritate me.

···

“One hundred and twelve million dollars in assets, Your Honor, and yet Mr. Casiraghi is trying to hold my client to a parsimonious prenuptial agreement that we have more than enough evidence to prove is suspect. Mrs. Casiraghi is entitled to half of the assets as well as a reasonable continuing percentage of profits in his company.”

We’ve been at it for nearly an hour, our opening arguments bleeding right into actual arguments that seem like they might never end, despite how badly I would like to end this session so that I can pick it back up later.

I hear the scrape of Ezra’s chair as he stands from their table.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Ms. Pierce, but the evidence you’re referring to is circumstantial at best.” He turns to face Judge Harding, a stern woman in her sixties who delivers edicts like she’s reading the weather.

“Your Honor, there has been no solid evidence presented that my client has breached the terms of the prenuptial agreement that was set when he and Mrs. Casiraghi were first married. An agreement that she signed, I might add.”

There’s always been something slightly appealing about the air of confidence that Ezra projects, one that even the me before these past few weeks couldn’t help but appreciate.

Now though…Now it feels more charged. Like every authoritative word zings through my bloodstream, leaving me with an urge to give him my attention, to lean into his voice so that I can hear more of it.

Not exactly prudent for his opposing counsel, to be sure.

I tuck those feelings away, rolling my eyes at his assertions of a lack of evidence to prove Lorenzo’s infidelity.

I know that he knows it’s bullshit, anyone with a working brain can see that, but I also know that it would be too easy for him to not drag me through the ringer, to not make me work for it. It just wouldn’t be Ezra if he didn’t.

“With all due respect,” I counter sweetly, “I would venture to say that pages upon pages of salacious exchanges between Mr. Casiraghi and another woman can’t be called anything less than solid evidence.”

“As we’ve already discussed, Ms. Pierce,” Ezra says calmly, tucking his hands in his pockets as if he’s readying to take a leisurely stroll.

“Those emails did not originate from Mr. Casiraghi. We have been conducting our own investigations in regard to who might have been using Mr. Casiraghi’s computer without his knowledge. ”

“I’ll bet,” I scoff.

“Regardless,” Ezra says smoothly. “Inconsequential exchanges that can’t be proven in origin do not entitle Mrs. Casiraghi to over five hundred million dollars.”

“Mrs. Casiraghi has offered over thirty years of moral support in regard to her husband’s business,” I argue. “One might even say that she is the reason that Mr. Casiraghi is where he is today.”

“That is outrageous ,” Lorenzo growls suddenly, slamming his fist on their table. “Bianca had nothing to do with my success. This is just a silly game.”

“I didn’t?” I turn to catch Bianca’s raised brow. “Who listened to your complaints night after night? Who hosted your silly parties for your terrible friends? Who was there, Lorenzo? Certainly not the woman you have been giving your tiny cock.”

“Ma che stronza —”

Judge Harding bangs her gavel, silencing Lorenzo’s insults. “Order!” She points at Ezra. “Mr. Hart, get your client under control.” She shoots me a look. “Yours as well, Ms. Pierce.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Ezra and I say back simultaneously.

“Now.” Judge Harding nods at me. “You may continue, Ms. Pierce.”

I try not to feel gleeful when I catch Ezra casting a chastising glance back at Lorenzo, keeping my attention on the judge instead.

“Your Honor, it has also come to our attention that the account that Mr. Hart claims is shared by his client and an ailing relative has no concrete ties to anyone in his immediate family. Furthermore, we’ve discovered that the funds within that account are being used to pay for not one but two mortgages—one of which was not listed among Mr. Casiraghi’s assets during disclosure. ”

Judge Harding laces her fingers together, turning her attention to Ezra. “Is that true, Mr. Hart?”

“Mr. Casiraghi holds the account in question so that he can deposit funds to be used at the discretion of his relative. It is not his responsibility to keep up with every purchase made with those funds.”

“How convenient,” I mutter. “Your Honor, it is our belief that this ‘relative’ mentioned is not a relative at all. In fact, we were just granted a subpoena to obtain financial records from the woman in question as well as a DNA test.”

“A DNA test will be circumstantial at best,” Ezra chimes in. “She is a relative by marriage. A close friend from childhood.”

I cut my eyes to him, frowning. His answering smirk has me suppressing the urge to smile, weirdly enough. I can tell by the glint in his eyes that he’s enjoying the back-and-forth between us.

“I’m sure,” I say. “Nevertheless, we are confident that Ms. Kinsley, the woman Mr. Casiraghi claims is an ailing relative, will reveal that she has undergone no medical treatments. Not only that, but we believe there will be adequate proof within those records that will offer the ‘solid evidence’ that Mr. Hart mentioned. That they will substantiate our claims.”

Judge Harding cocks her head. “Are you asking for a continuance, Ms. Pierce?”

“I am,” I tell her confidently. “I ask that we reconvene in one week’s time, which will give both parties ample time to review this new evidence once it is disclosed.”