“She works at another firm,” I tell her. “She’s actually my opposing counsel on the Casiraghi case. She’s incredibly smart and probably the only person on the planet who takes as much joy as she does in putting me in my place. Honestly, she’s the only person I don’t mind losing to, as weird as that is. I kind of like it when she’s smug.”

“She sounds like a real keeper,” Mom laughs.

I can’t help the chuckle that escapes me, staring down at the stained wooden deck as I think about Dani’s personality, which reminds me of a feral cat that I can’t stop trying to make like me.

“Dani is…” I shake my head. “She’s something.”

“When can I meet her? You should bring her to dinner sometime.”

My smile dissipates. “I can’t bring her here.”

I don’t mean it to come out as harshly as it does, and I immediately regret my tone the second the words are out. My mother’s happy expression wavers, and I know just from looking at her that she’d almost allowed herself to forget just how fucked up this house is.

“Right,” she answers quietly. “Maybe some other time.”

“Mom, I’m sorry, I—”

“Don’t.” Mom shakes her head. “Don’t apologize. It isn’t your fault, sweetheart.”

“It isn’t yours either,” I urge. “He can’t punish you forever. You shouldn’t be letting him.”

Mom says nothing as she reaches for her cup, staring thoughtfully into her tea for a moment before bringing it to her mouth to sip. She holds it after, staring out over the backyard as she considers this.

“It’s not that simple,” she says finally.

I can’t help the snort that escapes me. “It could be. We could fight him. You know I would do anything I could to—”

“Let it go, Ezra.”

I’m breathing too hard, staring at my mother with my mouth hanging open. “Tell me why.”

“So many reasons,” she sighs. “But mostly…I won’t let my children suffer for me. Not any more than they already have.”

“But—”

Her head turns, her eyes capturing mine, and her smile is sad now, weighted down by years of heartache that I can’t help but feel a little responsible for. “I love you. You know that. But this isn’t a fight you can win. I’m not going to let you put yourself at risk just to try.”

My hands clench the arms of the rocking chair, and I have a strong urge to stand and throw it across the yard. Everything about her situation makes me feel so fucking helpless. I relax my grip instead, reaching to cover her hand with mine and giving it a much gentler squeeze.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her.

I don’t say for what. There’s no point. We both know exactly what I mean. We both know how much there is to be sorry for, and how much neither of us can change it.

I feel her thumb brush against the side of my hand in a slow back-and-forth. “So am I, sweetheart.”

Not for the first time, I ache with a desire for things to be different. For my mother to be happy and whole, for my family not to be so fucked up, for something to go right for a change.

My mind wanders to Dani unwittingly, and part of me wonders if this is why I push her so hard. Do I want her the way I think I do? Or do I just need something that I chose to go the way I chose it for once in my life? They’re questions I don’t have the answers to.

Just like I don’t have a good answer for why I want to see her so badly at this moment.

OceanofPDF.com

Thirteen

“Have we already looked into her spending?”

I hear Nate hum absently from the speaker on my phone that lies a foot away on my bedspread, listening to him rifling through a stack of papers. “Pretty standard mistress stuff, if you ask me. Christ, the amount of money this woman spends on La Perla. How many pairs of underwear do you women need?”

“I’d say it’s preferable to wearing the same four pairs until holes form,” Vera remarks dryly from our three-way call.

Nate laughs. “Been going through my underwear drawer, have you?”

“Not without a hazmat suit and thick gloves,” Vera deadpans.

I rub my temples. “Guys, I’m meeting with Bianca tomorrow to prep her for trial. I need some good news for her.”

“Right,” Vera snorts. “You could just ask her if she has any other bombshells tucked up her sleeve. Maybe Lorenzo has a secret dogfighting ring she can drop at the last second.”

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Nate asks. “Have you talked to her about all the cloak-and-dagger shit she’s pulled?”

“As much as she’ll let me,” I grumble. “She’s not making any of this easy.”

Vera makes a disgruntled noise. “I get the feeling that all of this is just Bianca having her public revenge against Lorenzo. Does she even care if she wins?”

“Let’s hope so,” I sigh. “Since my career is literally riding on it.”

“Just keep looking,” Nate encourages.

“I can’t believe they’re really going with ‘sick relative,’ ” Vera chimes in.

I roll my eyes. “I mean, can’t you? It sounds exactly like something Ezra would say.”

My gut clenches at the thought of him; I haven’t seen him since the party, and the conversation between us has been…different. Since that night, his stupid texts seem to irritate me less than before. Even if only a little. There are even times when they’ve made me smile—not that I will ever admit that to Ezra. And complaining about him now feels less…scathing than it might have a few weeks ago. Almost like my heart isn’t quite as in it now.

“This could be something,” Nate cuts in, drawing me out of my thoughts. “She’s paying two mortgages.”

I perk up. “The mistress?”

“No,” Vera says flatly. “My hairdresser.”

“Shut up,” I huff. “Where are you seeing the second mortgage?”

“Page seven,” Nate says.

I start backtracking to see what he’s seeing, noticing multiple mortgage payments being made to the same bank.

“That’s strange,” I note. “Do we know of a separate property?”

“Haven’t gotten word back on the subpoena we filed for her financials. All we have is Lorenzo’s shit.”

“Hmm.” I highlight the page. “Well, make a note of it. It could be their own little honeycomb hideout. It’s worth looking into.”

“Okay, but,” Vera says. “Why would they need two houses to fuck in?”

“I mean, he has already decided he needs two women,” Nate scoffs. “Maybe he just likes to do everything in twos?”

“How neat of him,” I remark dryly. “I can ask Bianca tomorrow if she has any ideas on this. How is it coming with Lorenzo’s emails?”

“Wonderfully,” Vera answers with a quickly following sound of disgust. “If you like to imagine cyber-sexting in emails like we’re back in 2008.”

“You were sixteen in 2008,” Nate points out. “Who were you cyber-sexting?”

Vera hmphs. “None of your business.”

“Guys,” I practically growl. “I swear to God, if you two don’t just fuck already, I’m going to—”

A knock sounds outside my bedroom at the same time that Vera and Nate both start talking over each other about how ridiculous the idea of them fucking would be, and I sit up straighter and peer through the open door into the living room. Another knock sounds at my front door, more insistent this time, and I frown at the time on my phone. Who the hell is coming by after nine?

“Hold on,” I tell Vera and Nate on the other line, who are still arguing about how ridiculous the idea of them fucking is. “Someone’s at my door.”

“—rather fuck a sentient sea cucumber than touch him—”