The courthouse steps felt colder than usual beneath Serena Vale's heels. The marble gleamed under the waning afternoon sun, but to her, it was nothing more than a stage she wanted desperately to escape. She gripped her briefcase tighter, the words of Santorutto still echoing in her mind like poison.
You'll die just like your father. You and that mother of yours will scream for mercy before I'm through.
Her breath hitched. Serena had faced countless criminals, ruthless men who spat threats in the heat of losing, but this one was different. It wasn't just rage—it was knowledge. The way he spat her father's death into the open was too deliberate, too pointed.
Her father had died when she was twelve. A car accident, they told her. A tragic collision on a rainy night. She never believed it. And now, with Santorutto's words latching on like thorns, doubt clawed back into her chest.
"Breathe, Serena," she whispered to herself, forcing her steps forward. The crowd of reporters had already dispersed, but she still felt the weight of unseen eyes.
Her phone buzzed in her purse. A message from Jade lit up the screen:
Dinner at mine tonight. No excuses. Chloe's bringing dessert, Maya's got the wine. You need us.
Serena almost smiled. Jade, even pregnant and exhausted half the time, was still the most nurturing of them all. And tonight, Serena was grateful. She texted back a quick On my way before hailing a cab.
Jade's apartment smelled like lavender and roasted chicken, a soothing combination that immediately eased Serena's tight shoulders. Jade waddled toward her with that radiant glow only pregnancy could give, her hand resting protectively on her growing belly.
"Look who finally escaped court hell," Jade teased softly, pressing a plate into Serena's hand. "Eat. You look like you've been chewing nails."
Chloe was already curled up on the couch with her laptop, scrolling through the news with a journalist's sharp eye. Maya, the psychologist of the group, was pouring glasses of red wine, her expression both warm and probing.
"What did we miss?" Chloe asked without looking up.
"Serena being haunted by criminals," Jade answered before Serena could open her mouth.
"Not haunted," Serena muttered. "Threatened. He said he'd kill me and my mom." She hesitated, then added quietly, "The same way my father died."
The chatter froze. Chloe finally looked up, her eyes sharp as daggers. "He said that?"
"Verbatim."
Maya set the wine bottle down, her tone calm but firm. "Serena… that's not a coincidence. He knows something."
Serena stared at her untouched food. "That's what scares me."
Jade placed her hand over hers, her eyes soft. "Then you're not alone in this. You've got us. No courtroom threat changes that."
The words steadied her more than she expected. These three women had seen her through law school, heartbreak, victories, and failures. If anything could drown out Santorutto's venom, it was them.
But still, her gaze kept drifting toward her purse.
Across the street, behind tinted glass on the top floor of an unassuming office building, Dante Moretti watched.
She had changed into casual clothes now—jeans, a soft sweater—but nothing dulled the steel in her posture. Even when she laughed with her friends, she carried herself like she was on trial. And Dante admired that.
His hand rested on the glass of wine beside him, untouched. His focus was singular: Serena Vale.
Today's collision in the courthouse lobby hadn't been chance. He'd orchestrated the timing, the path, the crowd's flow. Even the watch slipping from his wrist—deliberate. A hook. A silent claim.
And now it sat in her bag, resting against her phone, a reminder that no matter how far she ran, he could always leave a piece of himself with her.
Andrés' voice echoed in his head from earlier: She's dangerous. A lawyer with too much fire. Do we really want her attention?
Dante's lips curved. "She already has it," he murmured.
The four friends gathered around Jade's dining table, the room filled with laughter, stories, and the occasional tease at Jade's cravings. Chloe made jokes about her boss at the paper, Maya gently psychoanalyzed her patients in vague anecdotes, and Jade rolled her eyes at both of them while making sure Serena ate more than two bites.
For the first time that day, Serena almost felt normal. Until she reached into her purse for her phone and her fingers brushed cool metal.
Her heart skipped. She pulled it out. The watch.
The same one from earlier, with its heavy silver face and leather strap. She had forgotten about it, forgotten to hand it back.
Chloe leaned forward, eyes gleaming with curiosity. "What's this? Did the mystery man slip you his number, too?"
"Not mine," Serena said quickly, setting it on the table. "It fell when—when he helped me pick up my papers in the lobby."
"Mhm," Maya said knowingly. "And you didn't run after him to give it back?"
"Of course not. The courtroom was chaos."
But her gaze lingered on it longer than she wanted. Something about the watch unsettled her. As if it wasn't forgotten, but left. As if it wasn't hers, but was meant to be.
Her pulse quickened.
From his vantage point, Dante watched as she lifted it in her hand, studying it. He could almost see the questions flashing through her mind.
Good. Let her wonder. Let her itch for answers.
Because the moment she reached for the truth, she'd find herself tangled in his world, where no law degree could protect her.
Dante leaned back in his chair, his smile slow, dangerous.
She thinks she found me by accident. But what Serena Vale doesn't know… is that I've already found her..