I pulled out my phone and called Sandro.
He answered immediately. "What happened?"
"The DA just filed a motion to call me as a witness. They want to ask me about our relationship. About when it started."
Silence.
Then: "I'm calling an emergency meeting with Diana. We're handling this. Today."
"Sandro—"
"Trust me, Emilio. I said I'd protect you. I meant it."
The call ended.
I looked at Diana. "He's calling you."
"Figured he would." She poured herself more coffee. "This is going to be a long day."
I sat down heavily. Thought about faith versus evidence. About trust versus proof. About the choice I'd made to love someone who operated in a world where truth was flexible and loyalty was everything.
I'd chosen Sandro over safety. Over certainty. Over the comfort of evidence-based reality.
Now I was about to find out if that choice would destroy me.
Or if, somehow, love really could be worth the risk.
CHAPTER 20: SANDRO
THE COURTROOM WASpacked.
I'd been to enough trials to know what normal attendance looked like. This wasn't normal. Every seat in the gallery was filled. Reporters lined the walls with notebooks and recording devices. Sketch artists sat in the front row capturing every moment for the evening news.
The district attorney had turned my assault trial into a circus. A test case. Proof that they could finally make charges stick against Alessandro Vitale after years of failed attempts.
I sat at the defense table in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit. Navy tie. Italian leather shoes. Every detail calculated to project success and legitimacy. Diana Martinez sat beside me reviewing her notes. Professional. Prepared. Competent.
Not Emilio.
I felt his presence before I saw him. That awareness I'd developed over the past two months. The way my entire body tuned itself to his proximity. I glanced back and found him in the gallery three rows behind the defense table. Dark suit. Perfect posture. Eyes locked on me with an intensity that made my chest tighten.
He gave me the smallest nod. Encouragement. Support. Love distilled into a single gesture.
I turned back to face the judge's bench. Took a breath. Prepared myself for whatever came next.
Judge Patricia Morrison entered and everyone stood. She was in her late fifties, known for running a tight courtroom andnot tolerating bullshit from either side. Fair but strict. I could work with that.
"Be seated," she said, settling into her chair. "We're here for the matter of The People versus Alessandro Vitale. Are both sides ready to proceed?"
Roberto Green stood for the prosecution. "The People are ready, Your Honor."
Diana stood. "The defense is ready."
"Very well. Mr. Green, you may give your opening statement."
Roberto buttoned his suit jacket and approached the jury box. Twelve faces looked back at him. Eight women, four men. Mixed ages and backgrounds. The jury selection had taken three days and I still wasn't sure which way they'd lean.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," Roberto began. "Over the next few weeks, you're going to hear a lot of testimony about the defendant, Alessandro Vitale. His attorneys will paint him as a successful businessman. A philanthropist. A pillar of the community."
