What Happens At The End Of 'May It Please The Court'?

She was his wife in every way that mattered. Except the one way that was real. Seven years. One document. Everything gone. June Cross walked away from her father's empire for a man who called her temporary from the start. Now she has nothing — except a secret, a suitcase, and one night she can't stop thinking about. She doesn't remember every detail. The bar. The bourbon. The stranger with quiet eyes and steady hands who looked at her like she was the only real thing in a room full of noise. She remembers enough. What she doesn't know — what she can't know yet — is that the stranger remembers everything. And he already knows her name. Dante Reyes doesn't do feelings. He does leverage, acquisitions, and victory — in that order. What he's offering isn't romance. It isn't rescue. It's a contract. She thinks it's temporary. He knows better. But what's coming for them both is something neither of them planned for — and not everyone is going to survive it intact. She thought the hardest thing was finding out her marriage was a lie. She had no idea what was still coming for her.

My grandfather, Tanner Kane, valued loyalty above all else. When his adopted daughter, Alanna Meyer, was sentenced to death for murder, he sent my mother, Florence Kane, to her death. All to preserve the bloodline of his late childhood friend. Alanna took my mother's name, married, and lived a privileged life free from hardship. Meanwhile, my mother died carrying a crime she never committed. My father, Graham Hart, and I changed our names and wandered from place to place. For years, I was mocked as a motherless child. Forty years later, after enduring humiliation and dedicating myself to my studies, I became a judge in Arbor Falls. Today, I am presiding over a controversial campus murder case in which the victim fell to her death from a building. There were no surveillance cameras. Only two girls were present, and each insists the other is the killer. One of them, Nova, comes from a poor family. Her parents are divorced, and she associates with local delinquents. She is known throughout the school as a feared bully. The other one, Scarlett, comes from a wealthy family. Her parents have a loving marriage, and she excels academically. Her grandmother is a beautiful and kind-hearted artist. Her great-grandfather spent his entire life doing charity work and was recognized as a nationally renowned philanthropist. Everyone believes she is a good girl who would never lie, so Nova the bully must be the killer. However, when I looked at the name listed under Scarlett's grandmother, I saw my mother's name: Florence Kane. Without a second thought, I turned to the person beside me and said, "Reject her request for acquittal."

"I know you're an ace divorce attorney. Please help me!" A young woman who's holding a child suddenly barges into the law firm and gets down on her knees in front of me. I'm about to help her up to her feet when a few live comments appear in front of my eyes. "This really is a doomed story. I can't believe the FMC has to go through all sorts of torment before dying." "Once she gets caught, both she and her child will be dead. The MMC can only spend the rest of his life in eternal remorse." "The FMC is pretty naive, isn't she? She thinks finding herself an attorney can help her secure a divorce. The MMC is the richest man in Opalford at the end of the day, so there's no way she can file for a divorce successfully." When I spot the next comment, its contents sting my eyes immediately. "Unfortunately, this attorney is a throwaway character too. Not only does she refuse to help FMC, but she also fails to recognize her as her older sister, who has gone missing for many years."

The day I received my admission to the New York Bar, I finally confessed my feelings to Alex Walker, the man who had been my mentor for the past three years. He was crouched down, carefully fastening the strap of Claire Harrison's designer heel. Claire was the heiress and CEO of a rival firm. When he heard my confession, he stood up and looked at me with nothing but contempt. "Eileen, who do you think you are? You think you deserve to marry into my family? You're just an assistant from some backwater town who happened to pass the bar. Do you really believe that makes you worthy of standing beside me?" Before I could react, he slipped a stack of forged trade secret documents into my handbag. Then he handed me over to Lucas Morrison, the infamous heir to the Morrisons, a man whose ruthless reputation was well known throughout New York's elite. "Mr. Morrison, she's all yours. Make her take the fall for the leaked documents. And while you're at it, teach her to stay in her lane. I've already chosen Claire. I have no use for this one anymore. Do whatever you want with her." His men dragged me away. Alex never looked back. One month later, Walker Law Firm was collapsing under a flood of scandals—fabricated financial records, misappropriated client funds, and malicious lawsuits. Alex finally called me, his voice as arrogant as ever. "Have you suffered enough? Admit those fake accounts and lawsuit files were your doing, and I might consider letting you come back as my assistant." Before I could answer, Lucas let out a low, amused laugh from beside me. "Mr. Walker," he said lazily, "my wife is busy acquiring your law firm. She doesn't have time to be anyone's scapegoat."

Three years into a cold, contract marriage, Evelyn Vance realizes her sacrifice was for nothing. Despite playing the part of the perfect, distant wife to the ruthless tycoon Rhysander Bert, her father secretly gambled away the bailout money Rhysander provided, destroying the very legacy Evelyn sold her freedom to save. The story flashes back to the day the deal was struck. Evelyn’s father had pathetically tried to force Rhysander into a marriage pact to save his failing shipping company, only to be met with cold mockery. Just as they were being ushered out, Evelyn stepped from the shadows and negotiated her own sale. Instead of a romance, she proposed a three-year "merger." She offered Rhysander a PR makeover and access to exclusive port permits in exchange for capital and protection for her family's business. Impressed by her calculated, business-like stoicism, Rhysander agreed, with the lethal warning that he would ruin her family if she ever embarrassed his name. Evelyn had sacrificed her freedom for help. Years later, she meets the woman who was Rhysander's first love and she knows that her time to leave has arrived. The first love tries to cause trouble, however, Evelyn is not one to take insults lying down. She immediately defends herself. Rhysander gets drugged and sleeps with Evelyn, then she leaves the next day. Seven years later, Evelyn comes back to the country with her children, who are also Rhysander's children and they bump into each other at the airport. Rhysander is shocked and surprised to see her at the airport.

After five years of marrying into the Loween City in place of my sister, the Gambling King finally passed away. My son and my ex-husband—at long last—gave me permission to fake my death and return to them. But they laid down three conditions. First: kneel before Vivian Gray, apologize for framing her all those years ago, and surrender my place as Mrs. Hartwell. Second: work as a live-in maid for my own son for five years, and never show up at his school in my former identity as the reigning queen of the nightlife scene—lest I embarrass him. Third: drink an abortifacient to destroy my fertility forever, as recompense for the infertility I once caused Vivian. "My lady, you've endured five whole years just to earn your freedom—how dare they humiliate you like this?" My maid's eyes were red, burning with indignation on my behalf. But I just tipped my head back and swallowed the death-faking pill, letting the servants toss my "corpse" into the overgrown brambles beyond the city limits. Then, from the mud and weeds, I crawled back to the Hartwell mansion—one knee at a time. Day one, I knelt as ordered and signed over custody of my son without a fight. Day three, I locked myself in the storage closet and stopped showing up at school to pick my son up like I used to. I also stopped pestering him to call me "Mom." Even when Vivian—knowing full well I'm terrified of the dark—deliberately trapped me in the basement, I bore it in silence. By the time my ex-husband Nathan Hartwell saw me again, I was barely hanging on. For the first time, a flicker of panic crossed his face as he carried me out of that basement. But my son just sneered. "It's just another stunt to win our sympathy." When he caught the tears welling in Vivian's eyes, Nathan coldly dropped me to the ground. "Always scheming against Vivian with your dirty tricks—aren't you tired of it?" Right then, the system chimed in my ear: [Please proceed to the "disposable ex-wife death node" to complete the story line and return to your original world.] I let out a quiet laugh. "Not tired at all." And with that, I turned and dove straight into the swimming pool beside me.