Next came Julian, who echoed everything Stefan said. Then my old journalism professor, who testified about my academic integrity and ethical standards. Each one building the counter-narrative: Valentino Russo was not a victim. He was a professional who made choices.
Then Emilio called my mother.
I hadn't been sure she'd agree to testify. We'd talked about it, and she'd been hesitant—didn't want to make things worse. But she'd shown up. For me.
"Mrs. Russo, you're Valentino's mother?"
"Yes." Her voice was steady but I could see her hands shaking slightly.
"Did your son discuss his relationship with Mr. Romano with you?"
"Yes. He told me everything. About how it started, about the coercion initially, about falling in love."
"And what was your reaction?"
"I was concerned at first. Any mother would be. But I could see—" She looked at me, then at Luca. "I could see that my son was happy. Truly happy for the first time in years. That's not coercion. That's love."
"Objection," the prosecutor said. "The witness is not qualified to diagnose psychological states."
"I'm a mother," my mom said before the judge could rule. "I know my son. And I know love when I see it."
"Sustained. The jury will disregard." But Judge Morrison's voice was gentler than usual.
The prosecution's cross-examination was brief. They couldn't do much with a mother defending her son. When she stepped down, she looked at me and mouthed: I love you.
I mouthed it back, throat tight with emotion.
Then it was my turn.
"The defense calls Valentino Russo to the stand."
My legs felt unsteady as I walked to the witness box. Raised my hand. Swore to tell the truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth.
The truth. That's what I was here to tell.
Emilio approached with a calm expression. "Mr. Russo, can you tell the court how you met Luca Romano?"
“He approached me with information for a story. Then, a month later, he came to my apartment. I had footage he wanted me to delete. He made it clear there would be consequences if I didn't cooperate."
Might as well start with the worst of it. Get it out there.
"So he coerced you?"
"Yes. Initially, yes. I was scared. Terrified, actually. I thought he was going to ruin my life."
"What did he ask you to do?"
"Write articles. Criticism of his rivals. Favorable coverage of his organization."
"And did you comply?"
"Yes. I wrote the articles. Because I was scared of what would happen if I didn't."
I could see the jury taking notes. This was the story they'd already heard. Now I had to show them what came after.
"When did that change?" Emilio asked.
"Gradually. He asked me to dinner. Not as a threat—as a request. I said yes because I was curious. Wanted to understand him." I looked at Luca, sitting at the defense table. "We talked. Really talked. And I started to see past the intimidation to the person underneath."
