Avenging Us - Gina Whitney Page 0,20
our family. If you”—he pointed to the wormy counselor with the two-dollar suit on—”do anything to upset or cross the line in some obscure way, I’ll make it my life’s mission to have you disbarred—counselor.”
The worm sat with his hands clicking his pen. Click. Click. Click. I didn’t know what that meant—his silence. However, I didn’t have a good feeling about it. The ADA was a woman. Ms. Gale. She ignored Mr. Gunner and offered me water. I accepted and thanked her.
“I will be making objections to questions on evidentiary grounds and preserving these objections on record.” Mr. Gunner spoke to the worm and pointed to the stenographer that sat to our left. “Typically, objections are based on relevancy or privilege,” he further clarified.
Ms. Gale quietly wrote on her yellow legal pad while the worm glared at Mr. Gunner. I took a sip of water. Now, the worm’s attention was on me. He smirked, showing his yellow stained teeth. Smoker.
“Hey.” Mr. Gunner snapped his fingers and Ms. Gale jumped.
The worm directed his attention back to Mr. Gunner. “Duly noted. Can we move on?” He had a bored look on his face. Which meant one of two things: he didn’t give a shit about defending Morgana, or he was a stupid fuck. He leaned into the large desk and folded his hands in front of him, glaring at me, probably hoping to evoke intimidation. “Miss Mastro, when did you start dating Mr. Gunner?”
My eyebrows rose, feeling off balanced from his question. I hadn’t been prepared for that.
“And at the time,” he continued without giving me a chance to answer his first question, “were you aware of his relationship with Miss Devu? And that they had a legally binding contract between the two of them for said relationship?” The smug smirk on his face sent an angry rift through me.
Well, shit…guess we’re playing dirty.
Two hours and twenty minutes later, we made our way through the sea of reporters and paparazzi. The worm had asked every question he could to shake my credibility, but between my answers—the truth—and Mr. Gunner’s assistance, I don’t believe he had much to use against me in the unlikely event the case went to trial. Mr. Gunner informed me once we left that we shouldn’t have to wait long to find anything out, and that he would bet on Morgana’s team backing away from pushing it that far. It’s really in their best interests to admit defeat and move on.
Abel tightened his hold on my hand and pulled me behind him—his dad close behind me. A crescendo of camera shutters clicked around us while microphones were shoved in front of Abel’s face. He muscled his way through with a few “Get the fuck out of my face or lose yours.” Thankfully, the car was a few feet away. My stomach tensed hard and little legs moved tightly across my tummy…then it was gone. No, I thought, but kept the pain to myself and walked.
The driver nodded in concern before opening the door. Abel lifted me into the vehicle and slipped in behind me, his father closing the door behind him. It was impossible to block the voices of the lawyers and the deposition. The events of the day, just another episode that would forever change my life, continued to loop inside my head as we made our way back to the airport. Mr. Gunner was in a hurry and had to catch a flight back to Colorado. Work. The hushed tones of Abel and his dad speaking softly did little to pull me out of my trance as I glanced out the darkened window watching the cars go by. The vehicle slowed and the drone of jet engines thundered overhead. I knew we were close.
The vehicle pulled to the left and parked. “You did well, Gia,” Mr. Gunner said, successfully breaking me from my thoughts. “There’s nothing to worry about. I don’t want you spending another second worrying. Put your focus on the beautiful grandchild that’s coming.” He cupped my cheek, and I managed a weak smile, agreeing to his statement.
Fuck. I was exhausted. Abel and he took a moment to speak privately outside the vehicle. That was until the media started infringing on their privacy. I wouldn’t say I’d ever get used to this circus, because that would be a lie. However, Abel made every effort to shield me as much as possible. At our home, I lived in a bubble of security. He made sure our