when he chuckled.
André shot to his feet and slammed his fists on the table. “Josie, this has gone far enough! You know damn well I haven’t been unfaithful to you. You aren’t going to be able to come up with any proof, so just let it go.”
She was on her feet, too, leaning across the table until they were practically nose to nose. “You’re so sure that I can’t prove to everyone what a bloody liar you are?”
“Because I haven’t lied to you!”
“You think that just because I was across an ocean while you were fucking every American floozy that crossed your path, I wouldn’t find out about it?”
“What the hell are you talking about, woman? You know me better than that.”
Both their accents had thickened with emotion. “Josephine,” Leo said, but she ignored him.
“I’ve got proof, you bastard.” She turned to Leo. “Show them,” she said.
He bent slightly, pulling a manila folder from his briefcase. This was not how he’d planned to lead up to this, but it would have the same effect, now or later. He flicked the folder across the table so that it slid to a stop right in front of Bria’s hands.
“What’s this?” she asked, tucking her pencil behind her ear before opening it slowly. A pile of full-color photocopied images looked up at everyone. They were different from the tabloid photos of women hanging on to André at parties. Various shots had been taken through a hotel room window, showing a naked woman draped over a man who was very clearly the famous André Cordeiro.
He could see from the way Bria went still that she hadn’t been prepared for this. Her client hadn’t warned her about the dirt his wife might have gotten on him.
André grabbed the folder. “This is bullshit! Where the hell did these come from?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Leo said calmly. “You can’t deny that this is you in those photographs.” He paused for effect, pointing to the woman in the picture. “And that is not your wife.”
André tore them up and tossed them back in Leo’s face, but Leo didn’t bother reminding him that they were only copies as the pieces settled around him.
“That was a setup. How else was someone aiming a camera through the right window at just the right time?” André snapped.
“Unfortunately, that doesn’t matter, either.” He stood and adjusted his suit jacket. To Bria he said, “Equal division of everything , is all we’re asking for. We’ll give you a day or two to accept these terms—”
“And the house in Ireland,” Josephine added suddenly, her voice still sharp and angry. “I want it free and clear, on top of my equal share of the rest.”
“That property has been in my family for generations,” André said. “You can’t just—”
“Maybe you should have thought of that before cheating on me.”
Leo swore inwardly, and Bria stood. “I believe this meeting is concluded,” she said, voice steady. “Perhaps you and your client could see your own way out.”
He didn’t kid himself that it was going to be that easy. He and Bria had been in tighter bargaining positions before and always come out on top. He knew she’d find an angle and come back swinging in no time, but unfortunately, the terms of the prenuptial agreement her own client had insisted upon were clear, and he was the one who’d breached it with his infidelity. André Cordeiro was going to end up paying his wife whatever she wanted.
Leo just prayed that when he won this case, it wouldn’t drive his own wife further from his grasp.
Chapter Eight
The door closed with a soft snick behind Leo and Mrs. Cordeiro, and Bria rounded on André. “I asked you if there was anything they could use against us, and you promised me there wasn’t,” she said, already racking her brain to find a way out of this.
“That’s because it’s shite,” he snapped.
“So that wasn’t you in that hotel room, with a naked woman draped all over you?”
“You’ll notice that I wasn’t
André shot to his feet and slammed his fists on the table. “Josie, this has gone far enough! You know damn well I haven’t been unfaithful to you. You aren’t going to be able to come up with any proof, so just let it go.”
She was on her feet, too, leaning across the table until they were practically nose to nose. “You’re so sure that I can’t prove to everyone what a bloody liar you are?”
“Because I haven’t lied to you!”
“You think that just because I was across an ocean while you were fucking every American floozy that crossed your path, I wouldn’t find out about it?”
“What the hell are you talking about, woman? You know me better than that.”
Both their accents had thickened with emotion. “Josephine,” Leo said, but she ignored him.
“I’ve got proof, you bastard.” She turned to Leo. “Show them,” she said.
He bent slightly, pulling a manila folder from his briefcase. This was not how he’d planned to lead up to this, but it would have the same effect, now or later. He flicked the folder across the table so that it slid to a stop right in front of Bria’s hands.
“What’s this?” she asked, tucking her pencil behind her ear before opening it slowly. A pile of full-color photocopied images looked up at everyone. They were different from the tabloid photos of women hanging on to André at parties. Various shots had been taken through a hotel room window, showing a naked woman draped over a man who was very clearly the famous André Cordeiro.
He could see from the way Bria went still that she hadn’t been prepared for this. Her client hadn’t warned her about the dirt his wife might have gotten on him.
André grabbed the folder. “This is bullshit! Where the hell did these come from?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Leo said calmly. “You can’t deny that this is you in those photographs.” He paused for effect, pointing to the woman in the picture. “And that is not your wife.”
André tore them up and tossed them back in Leo’s face, but Leo didn’t bother reminding him that they were only copies as the pieces settled around him.
“That was a setup. How else was someone aiming a camera through the right window at just the right time?” André snapped.
“Unfortunately, that doesn’t matter, either.” He stood and adjusted his suit jacket. To Bria he said, “Equal division of everything , is all we’re asking for. We’ll give you a day or two to accept these terms—”
“And the house in Ireland,” Josephine added suddenly, her voice still sharp and angry. “I want it free and clear, on top of my equal share of the rest.”
“That property has been in my family for generations,” André said. “You can’t just—”
“Maybe you should have thought of that before cheating on me.”
Leo swore inwardly, and Bria stood. “I believe this meeting is concluded,” she said, voice steady. “Perhaps you and your client could see your own way out.”
He didn’t kid himself that it was going to be that easy. He and Bria had been in tighter bargaining positions before and always come out on top. He knew she’d find an angle and come back swinging in no time, but unfortunately, the terms of the prenuptial agreement her own client had insisted upon were clear, and he was the one who’d breached it with his infidelity. André Cordeiro was going to end up paying his wife whatever she wanted.
Leo just prayed that when he won this case, it wouldn’t drive his own wife further from his grasp.
Chapter Eight
The door closed with a soft snick behind Leo and Mrs. Cordeiro, and Bria rounded on André. “I asked you if there was anything they could use against us, and you promised me there wasn’t,” she said, already racking her brain to find a way out of this.
“That’s because it’s shite,” he snapped.
“So that wasn’t you in that hotel room, with a naked woman draped all over you?”
“You’ll notice that I wasn’t
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