The Genius Litigator's Spectacular Comeback

arsh. The waist on this French lac

e Beverly Hills bridal boutique, her manicured fin

lection in the gilded

and hand-embroidered pearls dug into her shoulders. It didn

e," the director gushed, looking u

ely for your veil. Between his tech empire and your reputation in the

aint, polite smi

flection, landing on the empty leath

anticipation of his arrival, had

ng into her supposed "happily ever after," and she was doing i

turally tracing the worn silver buckle

r eight years ago with h

first failed startup out of a dusty garage--long before McLeod Dynamics became a multi-billio

ed against the

l, the heavy lace trailing b

Mathis, Basil's twenty-something execut

ise water, and two flutes of champagne on a wooden table. Th

atching on a pair of oversized designer sunglas

it the back of her neck. She

over the table, holding two tropical drinks in a c

into the shot, the sharp line of his jaw was visible--along wit

ished from

e until her knuckles turned white. That mole. That cu

of Instagram and opened

five hours ago, stared bac

ts grounded. Stuck in a freezing hotel

the boutique suddenly felt blind

s of building his empire from the ground up, of sacrificing her weeke

tropical getaway with an assistant who

eyes, swallowing

litigator, she needed verbal confirmatio

ct name and raised t

r long times befo

g ocean waves drifted across the line--followed imme

was none of the warmth of a man who missed hi

at the bridal salon, Basil. Trying on the final dress

st tell me you're not in a blizz

lipping effortlessly into the condescendin

w at two feet of snow. The board members are waiting for me to r

, unmistakably female gigg

blood r

the background, Basi

eing so needy. I'm out here freezing and working my ass off for our future, and you're fussi

fu

r future while soaking up the C

chest suddenly snapped, giving way t

oice flat. "Don't work to

ht.

hun

epped forward, her eyes wide with concern. "Are you feeling fain

ace no longer looked like a bridal gown. It looked like

Alex

the concealed zipper, and yanked it

ard. "Miss Marsh! Please, the delicate hand

t it," A

e floor like dirty snow and stepped

d changed back into her tailored charcoal-gray power suit. She smoothed the sharp creases

is," Alex told the director, slappi

d by the sudden, icy shift in Alex's demeanor. "Shall we still ha

ncing back at th

"Or burn it. I don't care.

f the boutique and stepped out into the dr

am one last time. She had just posted a new story: two

emed to think she was already some docile trophy wife wh

fiancee, she was the most ruthless, undefeated corporate litigator in Los