Page 126 of Dissection of a Murder
Julian senses the other barristers around him will pick up on the atmosphere if he doesn’t come, so he pushes his chair back and follows me into one of the side rooms. It’s raining outside and water streams down the floor-to-ceiling glass.
“What did you think of my speech?” I ask.
It irks him. He stands in front of me, puffing his chest out, hands behind his back.
“Leila, what is this?”
“I’m not allowed to ask my pupilmaster for feedback?”
He knows I’m being deliberately obtuse.
“What do you want to talk about?”
“You may have seen I was late into court this morning. I met a friend for a coffee.”
“What’s that got to do with me?” He shrugs.
“It was someone you used to know. Sienna Fox.”
He does a sarcastic little laugh and looks out of the window but can’t hide the fear that flashes across his face. I know him too well.
“I see. Best friends now, are you?”
“I wouldn’t say that, but we did have a good chat. Although you probably should know I accidentally told her about your indiscretion with Demi.”
The smug mask Julian wears most of the time completely drops.
“You what?” he sputters.
“Just slipped out.”
He quickly turns away from me and runs his hands through his hair.
“Jesus Christ, Leila!” he barks. “Of all people, you toldher? Do you know how close she is to Chester?”
“I do,” I confirm calmly. “That’s why I told her.”
He looks at me as if I’m insane.
“What the…Leila…she’s going to fucking ruin me.”
“Yes, she will…unless you give me a divorce.”
“What?” he asks, clearly scrambling to find a way out of this unscathed.
“That’s all I want. A painless, quick divorce, and neither of us will ever say anything about it. You have my word.”
He walks to the other side of the small room, away from me, andleans against the wall. Julian isn’t used to people—especially me—so openly calling the shots. He is accustomed to being in control.
“Why are you doing this?” he asks, seemingly forgetting that less than twenty-four hours ago, he threatened to destroy my life after I discovered he had impregnated another woman.
“Because she’s the one person in the world you can’t stand, and your fate now rests in her hands. She could destroy you with one phone call. Your reputation would be ruined, and you’d have to leave chambers, probably Durham, and practice in a different part of the country. There’s a poetic justice to her having that power, given what you’ve done to her.”
He knows he’s fucked. Defeated. He sighs loudly.
Checkmate.
“Fine,” he says quietly.
