CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
ZANDER
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How the fuck am I supposed to concentrate when my client, whom I’ve been fucking, is sitting beside me potentially carrying my goddamn child?
How could I be so fucking stupid?
Calm down.
Calm down.
Calm down.
I run the statistics of a woman her age getting pregnant after having sex a handful of times during a forty-eight-hour period. I have no fucking clue because I’m not a bot or a doctor.
But I’m pretty certain the possibility is high.
I’m not calm.
All Courtney had to do was take the damn tablet. I trusted her. Obviously my cock has been in charge and now I’m spiraling as I picture my future crumbling before me.
Me as a part-time father.
Christ.
Have I read her all wrong? Has she used Vanguard to get his money, then when he was unable to give her a child, tried her luck with John the painter and now me?
She’s getting five billion dollars, but if it’s a child she’s after, I’m walking around promoting my good goddamn genes like a billboard.
I’m an idiot.
My father will force me to marry her. Not that anyone can force me to do anything. But Mom will be upset...
Fuck.
Jason clears his throat, turning to where I’m standing in the doorway, having not yet sat down. He slides a document across the wooden boardroom table in front of the empty chair.
The one next to Courtney.
Without greeting Warren or Adam, I take my seat, and shuffle my documents, arranging my phone. Buying time to clear my head.
It works marginally.
“Thank you,” I say and finally glance up to face Vanguard. He lifts a single brow ever so slightly, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that he’s aware I’m unsettled about something.
This is not good.
Like a tiger in the wild noticing your limp, he’ll see it as weakness and lean into it. The problem is, it’s not this case I’m worried about. I’m about to slam dunk this asshole.
I cough into my fist, take a long sip of water, and glance around the table.
“Right. So, we’re all here.” Jesus, state the obvious, why don’t you. “Mr. Vanguard. Mr. Blackmore.” I greet them.
“Are you feeling well?” Warren asks, a hint of amusement in his tone.
“Strong as an ox, confident as the leading attorney in the city. You?” I ask, shooting a wink at Jason and Sean.
I’m back.
Both of my team members smirk, knowing we’re playing a game here.
Warren sighs. “Confident people don’t need to wear their little medals on their chest every day, Sterling. Grow up.”
I snort.
“Well, when you get one, let me know.” I grin.
“Can we please move on?” Adam Blackmore interrupts, shooting his wife a dark look.
Courtney seems to curl in on herself, and the memory of those photos, of the bruises on her face, returns full speed in my mind, canceling (for the moment) my animosity toward her.
After all, she might not be pregnant.
I’m not happy with how he is making her feel, and while she explained, I still don’t understand why she didn’t file a police report.
She’s right, it would have leaked and then her divorce would have been a lot messier. In saying that, Adam is already playing dirty, so I can only imagine what their marriage was like.
Courtney simply wants her fifty percent.
After seeing her photos, I want to take him to the cleaner’s.
No matter what her pregnancy status is, I am her attorney, and it’s time to do my damn job.
“My client has instructed me to be clear today; she is asking for the full fifty percent entitled to her under New York State law,” I read out. “And that the claims made against her by your client, both privately and in the public, are baseless.”
“Mr. Blackmore is not willing to accept that he should surrender fifty percent of the marital estate.” Vanguard rebuts. “Under the circumstances.”
What fucking circumstances? The one where he kicked her while she was curled up in a ball on the ground?
I roll up my sleeves...further.
“He maintains that your client’s infidelity and the misappropriation of funds alter the equitable distribution. While we are prepared to negotiate in good faith, my client will not agree to an equal split.”
I expected this, in all honesty.
I let Junior get it all out.
“He believes any division must account for her clear dissipation of assets and breach of marital trust,” Vanguard continues while Courtney clenches her fingers together.
I want to reach out and calm her.
Fortunately, I do something right and keep my hands to myself.
At least today I do.
“Counsel, with all due respect, your client’s allegations are exactly that: unsubstantiated allegations.
To date, you’ve produced zero evidence of infidelity and zero documentation supporting any claim of dissipation or misappropriation of marital assets,” I argue.
“In fact, my client could be asking for compensation for the harm caused to her reputation by your client's social media posts on these claims.”
Warren lifts an envelope and pulls out a large, printed photo.
What is he up to?
“New York is an equitable distribution state. Absent credible proof of dissipation or infidelity means that my client is entitled to her fair share of the marital assets,” I add, glancing briefly at the hidden photo.
Adam smirks across at Courtney with a darkness in his look that makes me want to invite him outside for a private chat.
Where I will change the arrangement of his face.
Punch him, I want to turn him to pulp.
I glance down at Courtney instead, willing her to look at me. It takes ten long seconds while the room goes quiet before she lifts her face.
I wink.
She blinks, confused, then a lightness appears in her expression. I should never have let her walk in here knowing I was furious—I am—or thinking she doesn’t have me on her side—she does, regardless—and feeling alone. Not with her attacker sitting opposite her.
Now I’m angry with myself.
Shit, I care for this woman. Not just as a client, which happens, but as a woman. A woman I’ve spent hours pleasuring. A woman I spent the damn weekend with.
“Fucking whore,” Adam mutters loud enough for the room to hear.
Courtney gasps, and like thunder, I turn to the man.
“Speak to my client again in that manner, and you’ll have bigger concerns than divorcing her. You hear me?!” I growl darkly as my chest expands.
Adam’s brows lift, unbothered, as Vanguard tries to calm us, waving his hands. “Please calm down. Everyone.”
“He threatened me,” Adam pushes his chair back, clearly enjoying every second of this.
“Trust me, it wasn’t a threat.” I lean back calmly and lift my own fucking brow.
I’d happily suffer the consequences of what I might do next if it means a chance to feel my fist against his cheek.
“Shall we take a break?” Sean asks, glancing back and forth over the table.
“Jesus,” Vanguard curses.
“If Mr. Blackmore can’t contain himself, he might need a walk outside for some fresh air.” I smile, knowing my calm exterior is irritating him.
“Who is this asshole?” he blusters.
He knows exactly who I am.
I turn to Courtney, ignoring him, and twist her chair so she’s facing me. “You okay?”
Her cheeks are ruddy as she nods. “I’m fine. Yes.”
She’s not fine.
I place my hand on her arm, knowing it’s the most professional line I can cross.
“Let’s all calm down,” Warren says, and I turn back to him. “Counsel, you may want to take a look at this before you accuse my client of baseless claims.”
He slides the photograph over to me.
I can see what it is before it reaches me and feel the pit of my stomach curdle.
“What is that?” Courtney leans over me and snaps it out of my hands. “This is fake. This is bullshit.”
The photo shows Courtney and John the painter on the driveway of her marital home. The home she left before she claims she met him.
Adam chuckles as if this is just a big joke to him.
“More lies from my wife. This is what she does. She’s fooled you. Let me guess, she sucked your dick and now you think she’s innocent.”
That fucking...yes, I did, and if this is real and she’s lied to us, then I am going to be furious.
Was I right?
Did she use me to get pregnant?
I still don’t know if she is, but what I do know is that she has not taken steps to ensure she isn’t. Fact.
I hide any doubt from the opposing counsel and his client. Because fuck them.
“We will have this examined,” I advise, ripping my eyes off the photo.
“Or you can save time and accept the ten percent split of the marital assets and not a dollar more that my client is willing to offer today.” Warren slams his leather-bound compendium closed. “The offer is only available until the end of the day.”
“This isn’t real!” Courtney cries. “I met John after I left, and you know it! How dare you, how dare you do this to me?”
Adam stands, adjusts his tie. “I warned you, dear wife. You knew what I wanted.”
What the hell?
What did he want?
One look at Courtney and she all the blood has drained from her face.
I feel an ache in the pit of my stomach.
“Go on. Tell them. Tell them how you failed as a wife. I’ll wait.” Adam laughs. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. Ten percent. That’s all I’m offering. You would be—”
“THAT’S ENOUGH,” I roar, standing.
“Let’s go.” Warren shoots me a dark look, but even I can see he’s not impressed by Blackmore. He might be my greatest competition, but both of us act with ethics and fairness.
I don’t take my eyes off them as they both walk out of the boardroom.
When Sean closes the door behind them, I put my hand on the leather of Courtney’s chair and remain as close as appropriate to her.
I want to comfort her.
I want to embrace her.
I want to strangle her and ask for the truth. The entire fucking truth. I need answers and to understand her why she didn’t take the Plan B pill.
I want to know what Adam is referring to?
What did Adam want and expect of her??
“Jesus,” Jason says, gathering his folders. “What a jerk. Sorry.”
“He is.” Courtney shakes her head.
“I need you to go back over his statements and see what you can find,” I tell my two associates. “Everyone has a secret, and without a doubt, Adam Blackmore has one. He’s fighting dirty for a reason.”
“It’s because...” Courtney glances away. “Never mind.”
I wait.
She doesn’t continue.
“Get Lucas Matthews in here.” He’s a private detective we use when we’re looking for serious dirt on someone. Which is appropriate because I’m about to start playing real dirty.
“With pleasure,” Sean says. “I’ll call. Jase, you start digging.”
“Let’s do this.” Jason slows as he passes Courtney. “You doing all right there Mrs. Blackmore?”
She smiles up at him. “Yes, I’ll be okay. Thanks Jason.”
I wait until the door closes behind them and then return to my seat, facing Courtney.
“We need to talk.”