Chapter 377
Her thighs pressed together, knees locking. Her nails dug into the wood. Her jaw clenched so tight her teeth might crack.
Then in a voice that sounded like a whimper, she said, “oh fuck p>
“Defence counsel?” The judge looked pissed. “Need I remind you that this is a court of law p>
Her voice–when she tried to speak–came out thin. Strained. Unsteady. “P–Pardon me, my lord.” She breathed, forcing a tiny cough. “ Dry throat p>
The lie was pathetic. Transparent. Everyone knew it was a lie. She’d just moaned out loud in a court of law. There’s no going back now.
Slowly, she glanced at me from the side. Her eyes were asking one question, “why? ”
Then she mouthed the words. “What are you doing? Turn it off. Please p>
I turned it off. Silence reigned for a minute.
She breathed. Recovered. Forced herself forward. But the damage was done. Something had already shifted in the room. Not loudly. Not
dramatically. But silently. The worst kind.
The judge leaned back, expression cooling. The opposing lawyer stood straighter, smelling weakness. The clerk resumed typing–slower,
suspicious.
Reputations don’t break in explosions. They break in cracks. Tiny cracks.
Her voice regained rhythm but not authority. Her confidence had been replaced with self–monitoring. Every word weighed. Every breath controlled. Every movement measured.
She wasn’t speaking to win anymore. She was speaking so as not to fall apart. She sounded like she was going to cry if she spoke too quickly. And that means she’d already fallen.
I clicked the remote once more. Not a pulse–just a low, constant hum. Soft enough that she could hide it and strong enough that she
couldn’t ignore it.
She kept going.
Her voice trembled. Her hands gripped the podium so tightly her knuckles whitened. A single drop of sweat trailed from her temple to her jawline, perfectly visible under the courtroom fluorescents.
She wasn’t moaning now. She wasn’t gasping. There was no erotic spectacle. Just humiliation. The most devastating kind.
9:51 Fri, Dec 26
Chapter 377
She finished her closing argument. Barely,
The judge dismissed the hearing for review, thanking counsel. His tone was polite, but there was a note in it.
Doubl
That’s all we needed.
Penelope stepped back from the podium like she was getting offstage after forgetting half her lines. She didn’t look at me. Not yet the was too busy trying to get her breathing under control. Too busy pretending she was fine.
Too busy realizing she had no idea who she was anymore when she wasn’t in control.
Only when the courtroom cleared and it was just us–me leaning against the oak paneling, arms crossed–did she finally turn.
She walked to me on trembling legs. She didn’t stop until she was standing right in front of me. Close enough that anyone watching would think we were lovers.
Which I guess we technically used to be.
Her voice was a whisper as she asked. “Why did you do that to me? Why, Reese?” She wanted to sound angry. But she only sounded
undone.
I looked down at her, slow, calm, like she was a problem I was studying. “You know why p>
Her eyes glossed with tears. Lust. Frustration. Shame. Need.
“What do you mean?” She said quietly. But I noticed she’d taken a step backwards.
She knew. She was just in denial.
Her breath collapsed in her chest. Not because she regretted it. But because she realized none at this was ever about loving her or wanting to be with her again.
I leaned in, brushing my mouth against her ear–gentle, intimate, devastating. “My brother,” I murmuted, “sends his regards p>
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Sara Lili
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.