“With your divorce.”
Temporarily surprised by the offer, Daniella didn’t respond right away. Slowly, she set her glass on the table. “I still don’t understand what your success has to do with my divorce.”
“I can help financially. With more money you can hire a better attorney to fight and get your divorce. I want to help you,” Roland said.
“I appreciate your offer, but—”
“Don’t brush me off.” He set his glass beside hers and leaned forward with an eagerness that made her apprehensive instead of excited. “I’m confident once we sign on the dotted line, the infusion of cash into our software systems will catapult our company, and I will become an extremely wealthy man.”
“Maybe or maybe not. You don’t know for sure. What if the investor backs out?”
He shook his head, confident. “Everything will be fine,” he assured her.
“Even so, I won’t accept money from you.”
Roland placed a warm hand over hers. “Daniella, you’re in this mess because of me. The least I can do is help you get out of it.”
“I can’t accept your money.”
This was her fight, not Roland’s. Besides, she was happy with the work Davis performed, although he hadn’t been her first choice. Despite their history, she’d wanted a more high profile attorney to handle her divorce. But when she’d left Cyrus, she hadn’t moved quickly enough to hire anyone. She’d been preoccupied with settling into her new apartment and resolving problems at work. Cyrus had taken advantage of the delay and “conflicted out” a good number of the top divorce lawyers in the city. By meeting with them and sharing enough details about their marriage to establish an attorney-client relationship, he’d effectively kept them from being able to represent her.
“Yes, you can take money from me. Let me help you so you can become unmarried. Consider it a loan if it’ll make you feel better.”
Daniella looked at her glass on the table. “As much as I appreciate what you’re offering,” she said carefully, “I can’t let you do that. This is my problem, not yours, and I’ll find a way to deal with my husband. Fighting him is not as easy as you think. He has unlimited resources.”
“He’s not a god, Daniella.”
“I know.” Not a god, but certainly godlike in the extent of the power and funds available to him.
Roland’s jaw hardened. “He’s not going to change unless you play hard ball.”
“You think I haven’t tried?” Daniella asked, frustration lending an edge to her voice. “What makes you think you can defeat him? He has way more money than you or I, and he’s not afraid to spend it. You know all about that, don’t you?”
An unrecognizable expression flitted across Roland’s face. “Yes, I do. So that’s it, he’s filthy rich and therefore unstoppable. Whereas I’m…what? A pauper compared to him?”
“I wasn’t comparing you to him,” Daniella said. She placed a hand on his arm, regretting her remark. “He’s unstoppable, Roland. He has a team of attorneys and lots of money to spend on them.” The conversation was making her lose her appetite.
“Daniella?” Her name came as an incredulous query from off to her left. The familiar voice sent the hairs on the back of her neck vertical. She looked up and into the frowning face of her brother-in-law, Trenton Johnson, Cyrus’s youngest brother. “What are you doing here?” His green-eyed gaze moved from the bottle of champagne chilling in the bucket to her hand still resting on Roland’s arm. His frown deepened.
“I’m having dinner,” she said. She left her hand in place in a display of impudence. “What are you doing here?”
“Business dinner,” he replied.
Her eyes darted in the general direction of where she’d heard the group of men laughing. Was Cyrus with him? Apprehension skittered down her spine.