"You keep your license and your career." His voice was steady but his eyes were dark. Pained. "And we end things cleanly. Before this destroys you completely."
Something broke inside my chest. Sharp and painful and absolutely devastating.
"Is that what you want?" I asked. "To end this?"
"What I want doesn't matter. What matters is protecting you from consequences you didn't sign up for."
"I signed up for exactly these consequences. I knew what I was doing. Who you were. What it would cost." I grabbed his shirt. Held on. "Don't make this decision for me. Don't decide what I can sacrifice."
"Someone has to. You're too close to see clearly."
"I see perfectly clearly. I see you. I see us. I see something worth fighting for even if it costs me everything else." I pulled him closer. "I'm not giving you up. Not for Richard. Not for the managing partners. Not for anyone."
"Emilio—"
"No. You don't get to sacrifice yourself nobly and make this choice for me. This is my life. My career. My decision." I was shaking now. From anger or fear or the overwhelming weight of what I was about to say. "I'm choosing you. Over everything. Over my career and my reputation and my fucking law license. I'm choosing you."
He kissed me. Hard and desperate and tasting like goodbye even though I'd just said I was staying.
When he pulled back, his eyes were wet. I'd never seen Sandro cry. Didn't think he was capable of it.
"You're sure?" His voice cracked slightly. "You're absolutely sure?"
"I've never been more sure of anything." I kissed him again. Softer this time. "I love you. I'm not walking away from that.Not for Sterling & Associates. Not for the bar association. Not for anyone."
"I love you too." The admission came out raw. Honest. "God help me, I love you too much to let you destroy yourself for me."
"Then don't let me destroy myself. Help me find another way." I rested my forehead against his. "There has to be another option besides giving up everything."
He was quiet for a long moment. Thinking. Processing. Then: "I know someone. Criminal defense attorney. Works independently. Takes controversial cases. She's been wanting to poach you for months."
"What?"
"Diana Martinez. She's seen your work. Thinks you're wasted at Sterling. She's offered me her card three times asking if you'd be interested in joining her practice." He pulled back to look at me. "You withdraw from my case. Sterling can't report you because you've removed the conflict. Then you resign and join Diana's firm. She'll take you in a heartbeat. Probably give you better terms than Sterling ever offered."
"And your case?"
"Diana represents me. Or I find someone else. Either way, you're no longer my attorney. The conflict ends." His hands tightened on my waist. "But we stay together. Just not in a professional capacity."
I processed this. Turned it over in my mind. "That could work. If I'm not representing you, there's no ethical violation. The photos just show us dating. That's not illegal."
"Exactly. You leave Sterling. Take a job somewhere that doesn't care about your personal life. We continue our relationship openly." He kissed my forehead. "You keep your law license. I keep you. Everyone wins except the Costellos."
"Diana Martinez would really hire me? Even knowing about us?"
"She'd hire you because of your talent. The relationship would just be a bonus in her eyes. She doesn't give a fuck about conventional ethics as long as the work is brilliant." He pulled out his phone. "I'm calling her now. If she agrees, you can resign from Sterling tomorrow and start with her next week."
"Wait—" But he was already dialing.
The conversation was brief. I heard Diana's voice through the phone—excited, professional, already planning. Sandro hung up and looked at me.
"She wants to meet with you tomorrow morning. Nine AM. Her office in Tribeca." He smiled slightly. "She's thrilled. Said she'd been trying to figure out how to steal you from Sterling for months."
"This is insane. I can't just quit and join a new firm overnight."
"Why not? You're not bound by a contract. Sterling's at-will employment. You give notice, finish out the day, and walk away." He pulled me closer. "Or you can stay and let them force you off my case while reporting you to the bar association. Your choice."
It wasn't really a choice. Not when he laid it out like that.
