Diana argued eloquently about ties to the community. Legitimate business operations. No prior convictions for violent crimes. She requested reasonable bail.
I sat in the gallery taking notes. Preparing additional arguments in case Diana needed them.
The judge—a stern woman in her sixties named Katherine Brennan—listened to both sides. Then she announced her decision.
"Bail is set at fifteen million dollars each. Cash or bond. Defendants will surrender their passports. Weekly check-ins with pretrial services. No contact with potential witnesses."
Sandro could pay fifteen million. So could the others. Within an hour, bail was posted for all four partners.
They were released just before 6 PM. I waited outside the courthouse with Diana.
When Sandro emerged, he'd changed back into his own clothes. Looked more like himself. Still exhausted but no longer wearing orange.
He came straight to me. In front of Diana. In front of the federal agents still milling around. In front of the reporters who'd been waiting all day for this shot.
He took my hand.
The cameras went wild. Flashes everywhere. Reporters shouting questions.
"Mr. Vitale! Are you worried about the RICO charges?"
"Mr. Rossi! Are you representing him again?"
"Is it true the FBI is investigating your relationship?"
Sandro ignored them all. Kept holding my hand. Led me to his car.
Diana watched with an expression I couldn't read. "You two realize this is going to make things more complicated, right? The public relationship?"
"Let it be complicated," Sandro said. "I'm done hiding."
We got in the car. Security held back the reporters. The door closed and we had privacy.
"You held my hand," I said. "In front of everyone."
"Yes."
"The photos will be everywhere by tonight."
"Good. Let them see. Let the FBI see. Let everyone see that I love you and I'm not ashamed of it." He pulled me close. "I'm done pretending we're just attorney and client or casual acquaintances. You're mine. I'm yours. Everyone might as well know it."
"This could affect the trial. The jury—"
"Will see that I'm capable of love. That I'm human. That might help more than it hurts." He kissed me softly. "Stop trying to protect me by hiding. I don't want to hide anymore."
I looked at him. This man who'd walked into my life three months ago and changed everything. Who'd corrupted me and loved me and turned me into someone I barely recognized. Who was facing life in prison and still chose to claim me publicly.
"Okay," I said. "No more hiding."
"No more hiding," he agreed.
We drove back to his estate. Walked inside together. Closed the door on the chaos waiting outside.
Our lives would never be normal. There would always be investigations and threats and people trying to tear us apart. The FBI was building a case that could send Sandro away forever. The media was documenting our every move. My career was permanently marked by my association with him.
But when he pulled me into his arms in the quiet of his home, none of that mattered.
I'd made my choice.
