Liked.
Likedabout him.
Hampton looked down at his file again. “Additionally, Ms. Gamal has access to substantial off-book financial resources through her long-standing relationship with both the Conti and Mulvaney families. She also has several family members living in Cairo. This leads the State to believe the defendant poses a credible flight risk given her access to money and her ties to her home country.”
Home country? His mother was a citizen. Fucking asshole. Just because they had family in another country didn’t mean they would flee. He barely knew his cousins. They’d practically disowned his mother when she got pregnant out of wedlock. His grandparents were still alive and living in Ohio somewhere, but Seven had never met them.
“Therefore, we request a high bail amount or that she’s remanded to custody until trial,” Hampton finished, looking satisfied with himself.
This was fucking crazy. How was this happening? His mother was a good person.
“Your Honor, as usual, ADA Hampton is grandstanding?—”
“Me?” the man sputtered, turning an unflattering shade of red.
The court erupted in titters of laughter that quickly died.
Enzo ignored him. “May I remind opposing counsel that bail is not meant to be punitive but to ensure the defendant returns to court. Rumors in a gossip rag or terrible taste in men shouldn’t factor into a decision about bail. Given the prosecution’s numerous divorces, I’d think he’d sympathize with my client on that front.”
“Your Honor!” Hampton cried again, sounding like a child tattling in class.
Judge Olivera raised a brow at Enzo. “Cool it, Mr. Conti. It’s been a long day and you’re not as charming as you think you are.”
“Sorry, Your Honor,” he said, not fooling anyone with his overly apologetic tone. “Ms. Gamal has been a dedicated employee at the Women’s Empowerment & Re-entry Center for over twenty years. She’s a single mother, a longtime resident, and she has no prior criminal record. She’s never even gotten a speeding ticket.”
Enzo’s voice was like a balm on Seven’s raw nerves. He was always so cool, so confident…at least when it came to work.
“The prosecution is trying to paint my client as some kind of mobbed-up mastermind with a vault full of coins and secret underground escape tunnels. Theevidenceshows a woman who made a career out of helping underserved families. She ran coat drives and food banks, filled out grant paperwork in triplicate. She’s not Tony Soprano in Louboutins. She’s a social worker with rent and a son in law school.
“She has strong ties to the community and she’s willing to surrender her passport immediately. If the court deems it appropriate, she’s also open to electronic monitoring or weekly check-ins with a pretrial officer. Asking for two million dollarsin bail based solely on her personal relationships is not only excessive, it’s unconstitutional.
“The State has offered nothing but speculation and rumors. Ms. Gamal poses no flight risk and is no danger to the community. We respectfully request she be released on her own recognizance or, in the alternative, that bail be set at a reasonable amount that reflects heractualrisk profile, not the prosecution’s reality TV narrative.”
Please let this work. Please let this work. Please let this work. Please let this work.
Seven needed his mom home where he knew she was safe.
The judge sighed then took her glasses off, wiping them on her robe. “I’m inclined to agree, Mr. Conti. After reviewing the charges and hearing arguments, the court finds that Ms. Gamal shows no significant flight risk.” Seven’s heart soared, then plummeted as she continued. “Bail’s set at fifty thousand, cash or bond.”
The judge kept talking, but Seven turned inward, his thoughts going a mile a minute. Fifty thousand dollars? It wasn’t two million, but it might as well have been. What was the usual bond? Ten percent? But you had to offer something as collateral. They didn’t own anything. Did they? No. Where was he going to get fifty thousand dollars?
The judge banged the gavel, making Seven jump, yanking him from his crash out. He watched Enzo and his mother chat quietly, dread hanging heavy on his shoulders like a cloak. They nodded and smiled at each other, chatting like old friends, then Enzo kissed her cheek.
His mother turned to him then, giving him a soft look and blowing him a kiss. He tried to return it but just…couldn’t. He could only nod in acknowledgement. The way her face fell gutted him. He was such an asshole.
He watched as they led her away. Once she was gone, Enzo strode to them then sat beside Seven, giving him a soft smile. “She’ll be out within the hour. Okay?”
“What? How?” Seven asked, bolting to his feet.
“They’re already working on the paperwork. She won’t be stuck here for the weekend. Hell, she won’t even be stuck here for the night,” Enzo said, as happy about this as Seven should have been. “She’ll be in a comfy bed before nightfall.”
Seven was shaking his head, gripping Enzo’s hands. “Enzo, I don’thavefifty thousand dollars. My mom doesn’t have fifty thousand dollars. We don’t own anything.Idon’t own anything.”
Enzo frowned. “What are you talking about? It’s handled. Don’t worry about it. Mama and Rocco are gonna pick her up as soon as she’s processed, and then she’ll stay at my mom’s until the media frenzy dies down.”
“Oh,” Seven said dully.
It was handled? By who? Had Rocco paid his mother’s bail? Francesca? Thomas? Atticus?
