Suing My Ex, the Don Chapter 04
The fallout from the firm’s scandal completely dominated the legal blogs. Overnight, the
untouchable golden girl of the defense bar was branded as a compromised liability. I shut down my
phone, tuned out the digital noise, and buried myself under a mountain of victim affidavits.
The morning of the De Luca federal fraud trial arrived with a piercing, clear blue sky. The courthouse steps were completely swarmed by media cameras for the most anticipated corporate
trial New York had seen in a decade.
The De Luca legal defense machine was a team I knew intimately-they were the very associates I
had trained and mentored over the years. Before entering the courtroom, Alexander blocked my path, his eyes flashing with an almost manic confidence.
“Grace, this is your absolute last exit ramp. Withdraw the prosecution case right now. If you bend
the knee, I will personally clear the three-hundred-million-dollar Atlantic Holdings malpractice
claim for you. If you don’t, your undefeated record dies today, and I’ll ensure you swap your
designer blazer for a federal prison jumpsuit.”
I stared straight through his plastic grin, my lips curling into absolute disdain. “Alexander, I don’t
lose, and I don’t run.”
Beside him, Isabella was clutching Sophia, her face looking incredibly tense. She knew that if the
prosecution won today, the De Luca house of cards would completely collapse.
Suddenly, little Sophia lunged forward, throwing a melting ice cream cone directly onto my blazer.
“You bad woman! You’re hurting my daddy and mommy! Go away and die!”
The sticky cream ran down the pristine white fabric of my designer suit. I looked down at the girl’s face-a carbon copy of Isabella’s-and felt a wave of cold irony.
“Little girl, you think the person standing up for the truth is the villain?” I said, my voice quiet. “Then what do you call your mother, who systematically murdered my unborn child and left my
mother to die?”
Isabella’s face drained of every ounce of color, and she let out a sharp, terrified shriek, “Grace
Reed! Shut your mouth!”
Alexander’s composure completely dissolved. He violently clamped his hand around my wrist, his grip tight enough to bruise. “What baby? What the hell are you talking about? Tell me!”
I violently ripped my arm out of his grasp, methodically smoothing down my ruined lapel. “Mr. De Luca, putting your hands on the lead prosecution counsel right before entering the courtroom is an incredibly bad look for your defense. As for the details? Why don’t you ask your pure, saintly wife exactly how much blood is dripping from her hands?”
Without giving him another second, I walked into the ladies’ room. After scrubbing the stain from my white blazer, I stared at my reflection in the mirror-my eyes were completely sharp, calm, and ready for war.
I took a deep breath and pushed the restroom door.
The door didn’t budge. The unmistakable sound of a heavy deadbolt sliding into place clicked from the outside.
Then came the trembling, guilt-ridden voice of an elderly cleaning lady. “Miss Reed, please don’t hate me… Mr. De Luca promised that if I kept you locked in here for just thirty minutes, he would move my husband to the absolute best private medical wing… I can’t afford to cross the De Luca family… I am so sorry!”
Her hurried footsteps faded down the hall.
The heavy, resonant chime of the court bell began to echo through the walls, signaling the official start of the trial. I scanned the small space, my eyes locking onto the single, reinforced glass
window.
Without a split second of hesitation, I grabbed a heavy wooden mop handle and violently smashed it against the glass.
CRASH-
The glass shattered into jagged pieces, slicing deep into the back of my hand and leaving a deep, bleeding gash. I kicked off my designer heels, grabbed the sharp frame with my bare hands, completely ignoring the shards tearing into my palms, and violently hauled my body over the ledge.
Inside the grand, solemn courtroom.
The final chime of the court bell faded. The camera flashes from the media gallery were firing like strobe lights at the completely empty prosecution table.
“Grace Reed ran! I told you she lacked the spine to go toe-to-toe with the De Luca machine!”
“Deserting a federal trial? Her career and reputation are permanently incinerated.”
At the defense table, Alexander adjusted his silk tie, a triumphant smirk returning to his lips. His lead counsel confidently stood up, “Your Honor, the prosecution has completely failed to appear without any legal cause, showing an absolute disregard for this court. The defense moves for an immediate and permanent dismissal of all charges.”
The federal judge checked the clock, letting out a heavy sigh as he raised his gavel. “Due to the absence of the prosecution counsel, this court hereby rules that the trial is officially- ”
“Hold on!”
The heavy oak doors of the courtroom were violently thrown open.
I stood framing the doorway, my right hand bracing against the wood, as a steady stream of blood dripped from my fingers onto the marble floor. My pristine white blazer was completely shredded by glass, the sleeves heavily stained in a shocking crimson red.
The entire courtroom fell into dead silence, save for the frantic clicking of press cameras. I marched down the center aisle, stopping directly perpendicular to the defense table, and raised my bleeding right hand.
My voice wasn’t loud, but it possessed enough weight to shatter the room.
“Your Honor, Grace Reed, appearing on behalf of the plaintiffs and the victims.”
Alexander violently bolted upright from his chair, every trace of victory completely evaporating from his face.
