Chapter 42

{That fucking cunt. Screwing my brother, and after all I’ve done for her. I’d be justified if I killed both of them.}

Quentin shielded himself tightly and said, “Those two photographs—along with my testimony, if it comes to that—give you the moral high ground. As long as you don’t do anything stupid.”

“Stupid, how?” the client said.

“Stupid, as in getting physical with either one of them,” Quentin said. “I’ve worked enough divorce cases to know how it goes down. You’ve got them cold, but if you hurt either of them, you’ll wind up getting screwed in the end.”

The client paused for a long moment. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right; but damn, I’d like some satisfaction in this.”

“You’re holding all the cards right now,” Quentin said. “Play those cards right, and you’ll come out of this smelling like a rose. After all, you’re the injured party here.”

“That makes sense.”