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I studied him. Hart Sullivan looked older than he had the last time I’d seen him. Perhaps prison did that to people. Or perhaps guilt did.Though I wasn’t sure Hart Sullivan possessed enough guilt to be burdened by it. “I came because of tomorrow.” His jaw tightened. “What about tomorrow?” “The trial.” “I know when the trial is.” “Then you know you’re expected to testify.” He looked away. “On Eva’s behalf.” His eyes returned to mine. He didn’t deny it. Instead, he said quietly: “Claire already came to see me.” “I know.” “She gave me her card.” “I know.” “She told me to call if I changed my mind.” I nodded. “And you didn’t.” “No.” “Why?” His expression hardened. “Because I don’t betray people I love.” I almost laughed. But I didn’t. Not because the statement wasn’t absurd. Because I suspected he genuinely believed it. “You’ve spent months hurting people on Eva’s behalf.” “I made my own choices.” “Yes.” That answer seemed to su
By the time I left Sinclair & Co., the sky had already begun to darken. I sat in the back of the car, watching the city pass through the window while my mind remained somewhere else entirely. Hart Sullivan. The name had been sitting at the back of my mind since the moment Claire told me her suspicions. She had given him her card— offered him a way to cooperate. He hadn’t called once. And now it seemed like the defense intended to put him on the witness stand. The whole thing irritated me. Not just because Hart was unpredictable— I already knew that. But I knew exactly how much damage one carefully chosen— carefully worded— testimony could do. Eva didn’t need Hart to prove her innocence. She only needed him to create doubt. And in our line of work, doubt was dangerous. Especially when a jury was being asked to decide whether a woman as beloved as Eva had orchestrated years of deception, financial crimes, violence and attempted murder. I glanced down at my l
The courtroom emptied slowly. People didn’t rush out the way they usually did after a hearing. Everyone had something to say. Hart Sullivan’s name had changed the atmosphere completely. I remained seated at the counsel table, staring at the notes in front of me. I had pages of testimony, financial records, exhibits, and questions I still needed to prepare. But I couldn’t concentrate on any of them. All I could see were two words I’d written at the bottom of my page. Hart Sullivan. I stared at them until the ink seemed to blur. “Claire?” I looked up. Daniel was standing beside me. “You okay?” “Yes.” I realized too late that I had answered quicker than normal. He raised an eyebrow. I sighed. “No.” “Thought so.” I closed my file. “Where’s Margot?” “She’s speaking with Jonathan and the others.” I glanced toward the front of the courtroom. Margot was near the judge’s bench, speaking quietly a few attorneys from Sinclair&co. Her wheelchair was positi
I let the silence linger for a few seconds, then turned back toward Mr. Hale. “Mr. Hale, you said the fifty million dollars was intended as a settlement payment.” “Yes.” “Do you know who authorized that payment?” “Mr. Dhark.” My chest tightened. “And these documents prove the payment was never made to me?” “No.” “So where did they go?” He referred to his documents. “Through a series of accounts controlled by entities associated with Ms. Sterling.” I nodded slowly, then turned toward the evidence screen. The transaction trail appeared again. One account, then another, then another. Until eventually— Eva. I pointed to the screen. “Is this the final destination of the fifty million dollars?” “Not all of it.” “Explain.” “Some of the money was distributed across several accounts and investments. But we were able to trace the majority of the funds back to entities and accounts benefiting Ms. Sterling.” “And the assistant?” “It appears received a perce
The courtroom felt different when we returned from recess. It felt louder. Whispers moved through the gallery with the speed of light. Reporters leaned toward one another, typing, writing, speaking rapidly into their phones. Lawyers clustered together in low conversations. Even the jurors looked different— more alert now. More curious. Dr. Ramon’s testimony had changed something. Twenty minutes earlier, we’d walked out of the courtroom with the entire room still reeling from his revelation. “A man desperate for a child will always return to the woman who can give him one.” Those words had exposed something far more important than a falsified medical report. They had exposed intent. Eva hadn’t simply lied about my fertility. She had understood exactly what she was doing. She had known Lucian’s greatest vulnerability and had deliberately built a trap around it. I looked across the courtroom. Eva was already seated beside her attorneys, whispering something.
For a moment, I simply stood there, my fingers resting lightly against the edge of the lectern, even though I wasn’t looking at my notes anymore. I knew what came next— I had rehearsed these questions dozens of times. I’d asked them aloud in an empty conference room until they no longer made my voice shake. And yet, now that I was here, now that the man who had changed the course of my life was sitting only a few feet away, the words suddenly felt impossibly difficult. I drew a slow breath. “Dr. Ramon…” I called, my voice suddenly growing a mind of its own, and becoming quieter than before. “When you handed Mr. Dhark and me that report… were you aware that I believed I would never be able to have children?” “Yes.” The answer landed with a weight that no dramatic speech ever could. I swallowed carefully before asking the next question. “Did that matter to you?” Silence. He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stared at the witness stand as though hoping th







