Nothing could be discerned by the pause.
Clearing his throat, Judge Stegen rumbled, “On the charge of attempted murder….”
The room swayed.
I gripped the desk, nails straining and threatening to break under the pressure. The bite of pain grounded me, and I leaned into that.
“We, the jury, find the defendant….” The judge paused for dramatic effect.
I wanted to scream.
My foot took a step, unbidden. I was about to rush the bench.
“Not guilty.”
Silence.
Total, crushing silence.
My gaze whipped to Vincenzo’s. His was laser focused on me. Calm, sure and swift, radiated from him.
He never doubted me.
I sagged against the desk. I’d done it. I’d freaking done it!
Vincenzo continued to stare at me, the depth of his feeling piled into that look. I ached for his strength. Wanting more than anything to wrap it around my body and let it shelter me from the storm.
My throat worked as I swallowed past my heartbeat.
I didn’t smile. I didn’t break.
I breathed in the stolen seconds and let the idea of freedom sink into my bones. The danger had passed. They would never find the warlord’s body. This would end here.
From a distance, Judge Stegen murmured, “Mr. Messina, you’re free to go.”
I ran.
The officers didn’t have time to undo the cuffs before I threw myself over the partition and wrapped my arms around Vincenzo’s neck. Tears leaked from my eyes as I buried my face against his neck.
“Bravissima, fiore,” he murmured in a voice that calmed storms.
That was all I needed to hear.
I pulled myself straight with a laugh. Dabbing at my eyes and blinking away the moisture before it ruined my makeup, I waited impatiently for the cuffs to be removed.
Vincenzo leapt over the partition and looped an arm over my shoulders as I hurried to gather the documents from the desk. He didn’t release his hold—his claim—on me as we walked out of the court.
Liam fell in step with us, and outside the room, we were joined by other members of the crew. They kept the reporters and crowd at bay as we moved to the side doors. Only members of legal firms were allowed back here. The door fell closed, cutting off the reporters.
“Your bike’s out front,” I laughed softly.
“Mmm, how’d that get here?” Vincenzo’s fingers kneaded into the tired muscles of my shoulder.
I let out a snort of protest. “Please. I drove it.”
“We both know that’s a lie,” he teased.
“If ya two love birds are good, I’m going to bail,” Liam drawled.
