Paper Trails 2 | Draft

Epilogue

"You are what you do. Now what you say you'll do."

*****

My heels cracked against the tiled floor in determination as I strutted through the lobby. I could feel eyes on me. I could see everyone staring. Who the fuck is this bitch that looks like she just walked off a Hollywood set? It was as dramatic as my entrance could get, but it was the only way I could get through this. I needed to put on a brave face, get it over with, and leave. I needed to be the woman that put Niccolò Di Vio in prison with just my testimony. And I would.

I didn't have a choice.

My sunglasses were a size too large, making my face look more narrowed. And I wasn't normally one for pantsuits, but damn this one looked good on me. I don't know if it's the squats or the food, but my butt has graciously been blessed.

Not that that matted right now. (Still, it kind of did.)

I took a deep breath and pushed open the doors to the courtroom.

Everyone turned at my entrance and whispers ensued. Niccolò turned. It was our first time seeing each other in months. I suddenly felt dizzy again, like the rug was being swept up under me and I was about to fall and land on my head. This was one big joke, it had to be. A game. We couldn't be here.  But it wasn't. And we were.

We were here, and this was it.

He'd been in jail awaiting trial, so he looked rough around the edges in a hot kind of way.

His lawyer murmured something in his ear, to which Nic shook his head. Damn, he did look good. He could be pushing eighty and my old ass would still probably risk a hip fracture climbing onto him and riding him like no tomorrow.

He wasn't smiling or frowning. His face was blank, so there was no telling what he was thinking or feeling. Well, the way his eyes just roamed my body, I'm almost positive I know what he's thinking.

I was just thinking the same.

Someone cleared their throat, and I realized I'd been just standing there, eyes on him, arms spread wide holding both doors open. I moved forward.

Someone touched me, and I tensed before realizing it was my lawyer.

"Are you ready?" He asked, knowing I wasn't.

I took off my sunglasses and nodded anyway, for both our sakes.

Just tell the truth.

Except, the truth was I didn't want to be here.

I'd had so much time to think about it. I didn't regret my decision, per se, I just hated to think that this is where it all ended up. Every argument, every time we fucked, every word led us here. To this.

It's depressing to even think about. What a waste of time.

Rochester was seated in the front, and the closer I got, the more his smirk grew. Fucker was satisfied as hell and I couldn't blame him.

My eyes went to Niccolò again. It was like he was a magnet. I couldn't help but latch on. He dragged a tongue across his lips before saying something to his lawyer.

"Your honor..." Whatever my lawyer was saying was drowned out by the blood pulsating in my ears.

Niccolò looked at me again. His lips pulled up. It was barely a smile, more like a baring of the teeth, but fuck if my panties weren't growing wet.

I looked away. I hate him. Remember what he did. This is for Tyler.

My heart was practically beating out of my chest, and I had to inconspicuously take a few quick breaths to calm myself down. My palms were sweating. Knees weak. Arms heavy. There'd be vomit all over this fucking courtroom if I didn't straighten up.

Pull yourself together! I snapped at myself.

"Miss Abrams?"

My head snapped up and my eyes locked on the judge. Her name was Judge Allen and she was looking at me with clear irritation on her face. I'm late. I'm moving slow.

I'm fucking this up.

"Yes?" My eyebrow rose and I pretended to not be as flustered as I felt.

"Approach the bench please."

My face flamed. I couldn't help it. She sounded like a stern parent and I was the kid who just drew all over her clean white walls.

"Yes, ma'am—Your Honor," I corrected myself.

When I was near, she let out a soft sigh. My lawyer was next to me, a hand on my elbow for support.

"You are late."

I stammered. "There was a—"

"Are you prepared to give your testimony, Miss Abrams?"

"I..." I glanced over my shoulder, even though I knew I shouldn't have. Niccolò's eyes were hard now, watching me.

"Miss Abrams," Judge Allen stressed.

I turned back. "Yes. I'm...I am prepared, Your Honor."

"Good." She sounded exasperated. "Then you may take the stand."

There was a man with the bible. I watched enough Law & Order to know what came next, and it felt surreal knowing I was about to go under oath.

Holy shit.

One hand on Bible, one hand in the air. I don't even follow the Bible. Does this make me a liar?

"Do you solemnly swear that the testimony you shall give will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

What if I was an athiest?

"Um, yes?"

There a sigh. Probably from Judge Allen.

"Is that a question, Miss Abrams?"

Oh, for fuck's sake.

I let out a soft breath. "I solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. So help me God."

The clerk (I think that's what you call him?) continued, "Please state your first and last name for the record."

"Neila Abrams."

"You may be seated."

I took a seat. My heart sped up, if possible, and I nervously wrung my hands in my lap.

Judge Allen nodded. "Let's begin."

**

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