Chapter 22 Sandro #2
"Mr. Costello, despite the defense's attempts to blame you for what happened, the fact remains that you suffered a serious injury that night. Can you tell the jury how this has affected your life?"
Antonio was quiet for a long moment. Too long. His expression changed. The rehearsed confidence replaced by something else. Guilt, maybe. Or fear.
"Mr. Costello?" Roberto prompted.
"I need to be honest about something." Antonio's voice was quiet. "I wasn't entirely truthful before."
The courtroom went silent. Roberto's face went pale.
"What do you mean?" Roberto asked carefully.
"I was really drunk that night. More drunk than I admitted.
And I did pull the knife first. Not for self-defense.
I pulled it because I was angry that the waitress wouldn't serve me.
" Antonio looked at the jury. "Mr. DeLuca didn't attack me unprovoked.
He was stopping me from threatening that girl. "
"Mr. Costello—"
"I'm sorry. I know my family wanted me to testify a certain way. But I can't keep lying under oath. What happened to my arm was my own fault. I started the confrontation. I pulled the weapon. Mr. DeLuca was doing his job."
Roberto called for an immediate recess. Judge Morrison granted it. The courtroom erupted in whispers.
I sat at the defense table processing what just happened. Antonio Costello had just recanted his testimony. Admitted he lied. Exonerated Matteo completely.
Diana leaned over. "Did you know he was going to do that?"
"No."
"Someone got to him. This doesn't happen spontaneously. Witnesses don't suddenly grow consciences in the middle of trial."
She was right. Someone had gotten to Antonio. Someone had convinced him that telling the truth was better than maintaining the lie his family had constructed.
During the recess, Diana pulled me into our conference room.
"I just got a call from my investigator. Antonio Costello had substantial gambling debts. Approximately two hundred thousand dollars owed to various bookmakers and casinos." She looked at me directly. "Those debts were paid off yesterday by an anonymous donor."
My blood ran cold. "Anonymous?"
"Wire transfer from a shell company. My investigator's trying to trace it but whoever set it up knew what they were doing. Professional level money laundering." She paused. "Did you authorize this payment?"
"No."
"Then who has the resources and motivation to pay off a prosecution witness right before they recant?"
I knew exactly who. But I couldn't say it.
Emilio.
Brilliant, ethical, principled Emilio had paid off a witness. Had used his new firm's resources or his own money to influence Antonio Costello's testimony. Had committed the exact kind of witness tampering he'd once condemned.
Because of me. Because he loved me enough to compromise everything he'd built his identity on.
"I don't know who paid the debts," I lied. "But whoever did it just saved us."
Diana studied me. "The prosecution's going to claim witness tampering. They'll demand an investigation."
"Let them investigate. If they can't trace the payment, they can't prove anything."
Roberto tried exactly that. When court resumed, he moved to strike Antonio's new testimony as the product of improper influence.
Judge Morrison denied the motion—there was no evidence connecting the debt payment to witness tampering.
Anonymous donations weren't illegal, even if the timing was suspicious.
Antonio returned to the stand and testified truthfully this time. He admitted he was extremely intoxicated. Admitted he pulled the knife first. Admitted he threatened Sarah Mitchell. Admitted Matteo's response was proportional to the threat.
The prosecution's case collapsed. Their star witness had just exonerated the defendant.
When court adjourned for the day, I looked back at the gallery. Emilio was already gone.
I went to Inferno and waited. Poured myself a drink and sat in my office thinking about what Emilio had done. How far he'd fallen from the idealistic attorney who'd walked into my life three months ago.
He arrived at 8 PM. Came straight up to my apartment without asking. Stood in the doorway looking exhausted and defiant.
"I know you know," he said. "I can see it on your face.
I used my new signing bonus from Diana's firm.
Two hundred thousand dollars." He walked inside.
Poured himself a drink. "I didn't promise Antonio anything.
Didn't threaten him. Just made sure he understood his financial burden had been lifted. "
"That's witness tampering, Emilio."
"It's an anonymous donation. No different than what your family does for sympathetic witnesses all the time." He drank. "I learned from the best."
"I never asked you to do this."
"You didn't have to ask. I saw what was happening. The prosecution's entire case rested on Antonio's lies. If he told the truth, you'd be acquitted. So I made sure he could afford to tell the truth." Emilio set down his glass. "His bills were crushing him. I took away that pressure."
"By becoming exactly what you swore you'd never be. A corrupt attorney who buys witnesses."
"I didn't buy him. I freed him. There's a difference." Emilio's voice was firm. "And yes, I compromised my principles. I crossed lines I swore I wouldn't cross. I became someone I wouldn't have recognized three months ago."
He walked to me. Stood close enough that I could see the exhaustion in his eyes.
"But you're going to be acquitted. The prosecution's case is destroyed. You're going to walk out of that courtroom free." He cupped my face. "That's worth every principle I sacrificed. Every line I crossed. Every piece of myself I had to compromise."
I kissed him hard. Desperate. "You shouldn't have done this for me."
"Too late. It's done." He kissed me back. "Now tell me you love me and take me to bed. I need to stop thinking about what I've become."
I pulled him toward the bedroom. Kissed him hard enough to bruise. He responded with equal intensity, his hands fisting in my shirt.
"Sandro—"
"Don't talk. Not yet." I backed him against the wall. Kissed down his neck. Bit hard enough to leave marks. "I need you. Right now."
"Then take me."
I stripped him roughly. Buttons scattered across the floor when I tore open his shirt. Didn't care. Would buy him a hundred shirts. A thousand. Whatever he needed.
He was trembling by the time I got him naked. From desire or adrenaline or the weight of what he'd done, I couldn't tell. Didn't matter. I needed him with a desperation that felt like drowning.
"Bed. Now."
He went. Climbed onto the mattress and looked at me with dark eyes. Waiting. Trusting me even after everything.
I stripped fast. Grabbed lube and condoms. Joined him on the bed and pushed him down onto his back.
"I should be gentle with you," I said, settling between his legs. "Should take my time. Worship you properly for what you did."
"I don't want gentle." His hands pulled me closer. "I want to feel this. Feel you. Feel something besides the guilt."
I kissed him hard. Swallowed whatever else he might say. Didn't want to hear about guilt. About regret. About the price he'd paid for loving me.
I slicked my fingers and pushed inside him with less preparation than usual. He gasped and arched. I worked him open quickly. Efficiently. Adding fingers until he was stretched and ready.
"Please," he begged. "Stop thinking. Stop being careful. Just fuck me."
I rolled on a condom and positioned myself. Pushed in hard. Fast. Buried myself completely in one thrust.
He cried out. Pain and pleasure mixed together. I froze.
"Don't stop," he demanded. "Don't you dare stop."
I didn't stop. Started moving with intensity that bordered on violence. Each thrust punctuated by everything I couldn't say. Thank you. I'm sorry. I love you. I've ruined you. Forgive me. Don't leave me.
"Harder," he gasped. "Give me everything. I can take it."
I gave him everything. Pounded into him with desperate intensity. Changed angles until I found his prostate and hit it with every stroke. Made him scream my name. Made him forget about Antonio Costello and witness tampering and compromised principles.
"That's it," I growled against his ear. "Feel this. Feel how much I need you. How much you mean to me."
"Sandro—fuck—I'm going to—"
"Come for me. Let me feel it."
He came untouched. Just from my cock hitting the right spot over and over. His ass clenched around me and pulled me deeper. I lasted maybe three more thrusts before my own orgasm hit.
I came so hard I saw stars. Buried myself as deep as I could go and emptied everything into him. All the gratitude and guilt and love and regret. All of it poured into this moment. Into him.
We collapsed together. Both shaking. Both gasping for air.
After a moment I pulled out carefully. Dealt with the condom. Started to reach for tissues to clean us up.
Emilio stopped me. "Wait. Just hold me first."
I pulled him against my chest. Felt his heart hammering against my ribs. Felt the sweat cooling on his skin. Felt the tremors running through him that had nothing to do with physical pleasure.
"I'm sorry," I said quietly. "For what I've made you become."
"You didn't make me do anything. I chose this." His voice was muffled against my neck. "Every step. Every compromise. Every line I crossed. Those were my choices."
"Choices I manipulated you into making."
"Maybe. But they're still mine." He pulled back to look at me. "Stop trying to absolve yourself by taking all the blame. I'm a grown man who made decisions with full knowledge of the consequences."
"You couldn't have known—"
"I knew enough. I knew what you were. What loving you would cost. I chose it anyway." He kissed me softly. "So stop apologizing and just love me. That's all I need from you."
I kissed him back. Poured everything I felt into it. Then grabbed the tissues and cleaned us both gently. Carefully. Like he might shatter if I was too rough.
When we were clean, I pulled him back into my arms. Held him while his breathing evened out. While his body relaxed. While he slowly fell asleep against my chest.
I stayed awake. Watching him. Memorizing the way he looked peaceful despite everything. Despite becoming someone he never wanted to be. Despite crossing every line he'd sworn he wouldn't cross.
All for me.
All because he loved me enough to sacrifice his principles at the altar of our relationship.
So I held him while he slept and thought about the attorney who'd walked into my life full of principles and idealism.
And the man he'd become. Harder. More cynical. Willing to bend rules and cross lines and compromise ethics for someone he loved.
I'd corrupted him completely.
And God help me, I didn't regret it.
Because he was mine now. Fully. Completely. Irrevocably.
And I'd burn the whole world down before I let him go.