"I've watched you these past three years. Brilliant attorney. Incredible work ethic. Completely dedicated to your career. But you've never looked happy. Not really. Not until these past few weeks." She leaned forward. "I don't know Alessandro Vitale. I don't know what's happening between you. But whatever it is, it's changed you. Made you confident in ways you weren't before. Made you fight for what you want instead of just accepting what you're given."
"That's not necessarily a good thing. Professionally."
"Maybe not. But personally? Maybe it's exactly what you needed." She stood. "I'm not telling you what to choose. That's your decision. But don't choose based on what you think you should do. Choose based on what you actually want."
"What if what I want destroys my career?"
"Then maybe you build a different career. One that doesn't require you to sacrifice the parts of yourself that make you human." She walked to the door. "You're brilliant, Emilio. You'll land on your feet no matter what you choose. Just make sure it's really your choice. Not Richard's. Not the managing partners'. Yours."
She left and I sat alone with my thoughts and my whiskey and my impossible choice.
The afternoon crawled by. I tried to work. Couldn't focus. Tried to review depositions. Read the same paragraph six times without absorbing a word.
At 4 PM I gave up. Told my assistant I was leaving early. Went back to my apartment and stood in my shower until the water ran cold.
By 7:30 I was dressed and staring at my reflection. Dark jeans. Sweater. Leather jacket. The clothes Sandro had bought me because my original wardrobe wasn't good enough for his world.
Evidence of how thoroughly he'd infiltrated my life. My closet. My apartment. My bank account. My heart.
I left at 7:45. Took the subway to avoid thinking in a car. Let the noise and crowds distract me from the decision I still hadn't made.
Thomas was waiting at Inferno's entrance. "Mr. Rossi. Mr. Vitale is expecting you. Straight up to the apartment."
I took the private elevator. Watched the numbers climb. Felt my heart rate match the ascending floors.
The doors opened directly into Sandro's apartment. He was standing at the windows, silhouetted against the city lights. Still wearing his work clothes—tailored suit, crisp shirt, perfect as always.
He turned when I entered. His expression was carefully neutral. Controlled. But I saw the tension in his shoulders. The tightness around his eyes.
"You saw the photos," he said. Not a question.
"Richard showed me this morning. Anonymous delivery to the managing partners." I set down my keys. Stayed by the elevator. Distance felt safer than proximity right now. "Someone wants me off your case."
"The Costellos. Obviously. They can't beat us in court so they're trying to disqualify you before trial." He moved towardme. Slow. Careful. Like approaching something skittish. "What did Richard say?"
"End the relationship or withdraw from the case. I have until tomorrow at 5 PM to decide." The words tasted bitter. "After that, the firm withdraws me and reports the relationship to the bar association."
Sandro's jaw tightened. "They're threatening disbarment."
"They're threatening disciplinary proceedings. Which could lead to suspension or disbarment depending on how aggressive the bar association wants to be." I finally moved. Walked to the windows. Couldn't look at him while saying this. "They have documentation of you paying my debts. Photos of us together. Enough to build a case that I've been compromised."
"You haven't been compromised. You're the most ethical attorney I've ever worked with."
"Ethics don't matter if the appearance suggests otherwise. You taught me that." I pressed my forehead against the cool glass. "Richard says I have to choose. Career or you. I can't have both."
Silence. Heavy and oppressive. Then Sandro's hand on my shoulder. Turning me to face him.
"Then choose your career," he said quietly.
I stared at him. "What?"
"Choose your career. Your law license. Everything you've worked for." His hands cupped my face. "I won't let you sacrifice that for me."
"You don't get to make that choice."
"Neither do you. Not when you're this conflicted." His thumb brushed my cheek. "Emilio, you're brilliant. You have a real future in law. I won't be the reason you lose it."
"So what, I just end things between us? Pretend the past few weeks didn't happen?"
