Chapter 11
“I was drunk.”
“No.” She held his gaze. “You meant every word.”
“Elena —”
“And you know what?” She heard her own voice come out low and level. “You were right. I was a placeholder. But I’m done holding a place in someone else’s story. I’m writing my own now.”
His hand tightened. Fingers digging in. She felt it in the bone.
“You’ll regret this,” he said. “I promise you that.”
“Mr. Martinez.” Rebecca’s voice cracked like a whip across the lobby. “Remove your hand from my client, or I will have you arrested for assault right here in front of these officers.”
Marcus released her. His smile was ice.
“See you in court, Elena.” He straightened his cuff. “I hope your new attorney is as good as you think. You’re going to need her.”
Rebecca guided her out through the side doors to a black sedan, and the moment the door closed, Elena started shaking.
“He’s going to destroy me.”
“He’s going to try.”
Rebecca pulled a tablet from her bag and was already typing.
“But Marcus Martinez has never faced someone like me.” Her eyes flicked up. “Or someone like Dominic Sarrento.”
Elena’s head snapped around.
“Who is Dominic, really?”
Rebecca studied her for a long moment. The car pulled into traffic.
“That’s a conversation for later. Right now I need you to tell me everything about your marriage. Every affair, every humiliation, every instance of control.” She turned the tablet toward Elena. “We’re building a case that will tear Marcus Martinez’s reputation to shreds.”
“He’ll bury me. He has connections everywhere — the mayor, half the judges in Cook County —”
“And Dominic has connections Marcus can’t touch. Trust me on that.” Rebecca’s expression softened, just slightly. “Elena. You didn’t just hire an attorney yesterday. You gained an ally who’s been waiting for an excuse to take Marcus down. Dominic doesn’t do this for just anyone. So whatever you did to catch his attention — it worked.”
“I don’t understand any of this.”
“You don’t have to. You just have to talk.” She set the tablet on her knee. “Start from the beginning. When did you meet Marcus?”
Elena took a shaky breath and looked out the window at the city sliding past.
“Fourteen years ago. I was twenty. He was twenty-eight, already successful, already powerful. My father owed him money — a business loan gone bad. Marcus said he’d forgive the debt if I had dinner with him.”