No Strings Attached

Chapter Forty

The doors part and Connor walks ahead. Norman catches my arm, stopping me. When Connor turns to see about the hold-up, Norman nods for him to go ahead.

"I'll meet you at the car."

"I'm fine, Norman," I force out through gritted teeth, watching Connor leave. Norman moves in front of me, his face etched with concern.

"It's been six months since you've seen him."

"I am aware of it."

"You sure you'll be alright? I could go—"

"What? To watch me?" I counter disbelievingly, glaring up at him. "You don't have to worry about Giovanni Martinelli, Norman. I'm going to a fucking trial."

"Scarlett, I've apologized countless times..."

"And I've listened. You may have urged him to go, but he was the one who left. I haven't forgotten that."

"Just call me if you need me? I will be off the plane in a few hours."

"I will." My reply is short, designed to get him to go as soon as possible. It does the trick. He rubs my arm and turns, walking towards the exit. I stare at the doors, blinking slowly, content with the icy blood in my veins.

***

I didn't want to do this.

I didn't want to testify against Tony Martinelli.

I didn't want to be within five feet of Giovanni.

I've found a way to survive without him. It's working.

The van slows outside of the courthouse, where dozens of photographers wait, hoping to get a glimpse of the feuding brothers. I stare at the building, my gaze zoning out from the building to my reflection in the window.

A cold woman stares back at me. With rosy lips, light eyes surrounded by darkness, blonde hair, she is the reflection of resentment. I see nothing beautiful or familiar in the sight anymore.

Not even a month on a sandy beach could bring me back to life.

Not six months rebuilding a legacy and succeeding in the effort.

A flash distracts me as a camera nearly slams into the window. I flinch back, rejoining reality. Snatching my purse, I glance at one of Norman's many drivers as he opens the door for me.

Noise. So much of it. Car horns. Sirens. Shouts. Questions.

I drown them out, taking the steps, masking my emotions, my fear as I climb to the top.

I'm scared.

Breathe. I look down, inhaling deeply. Breathe, Scarlett.

He's just a man.

I grab onto the door, stepping into the frigidly dull lobby of the courtroom. There are people hurrying every which way. I look at them and they look at me as I place the strap of my purse on my shoulder uncomfortably.

"Excuse me? Do you know where the cafeteria is?"

I look at the woman, shaking my head. "No, I'm sorry."

She walks away in search. My heart races as my eyes reluctantly continue to scan the people around me.

Please let him already be inside. Please let him—

My strides slow, my heart dropping within me as I spot dark gleaming waves almost twenty feet away from me. He's speaking with a man, nodding as he listens intently, hands tucked into dark slacks. My eyes can't help but look him over in awe. He's still as beautiful as I remember. His jaw is still sharp. His skin still gleams.