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"And he said, 'I tell thee, Peter, the cock shall not crow this day, before that thou

shalt thrice deny that thou knowest me.'" Luke 22:34

Being honest with Olivia-finally, fully honest-had been the most freeing thing Alex could have imagined. She'd stayed out of the office all week, primarily to avoid the media. Sloane Jansen's rumor-mongering had chummed the water and Alex knew she wouldn't get anything done at Hogan Place. Instead, she'd spent some time talking with her Uncle Bill, telling him what was going on and asking for his forgiveness, too.

"You don't have to ask me for a thing, Ace. You're a human being, and human beings sometimes make choices they wish they hadn't made."

"I'm sorry if any of this will embarrass you," she said sadly.

"You've never embarrassed me," he assured her. "You haven't, and you won't. You can't, really. I'm as proud of you as I've ever been, Alex. You don't run from your problems."

"Well, I think I do," she said. "I think that's what caused this whole thing."

"I'm not here to judge you. God knows you do enough of that yourself. I love you, Ace. I want you to be happy. I love Olivia, too, but if you two aren't happy together, then I understand that."

"No, it's not that," Alex insisted. "We can be happy. We want to be, and we're going to try to get through this. There were lots of things in my past that I thought I had dealt with, and I hadn't. All the cards are on the table now, though. My future can finally begin."

He raised his glass to her. "To your future, Ace," he offered, then amended his toast. "To a happy future. You've earned it."

She also found time to persuade Ellen to come back to the office. On a limited basis, Ellen had emphasized. Until you can find someone else.

Someone I can trust, Alex said.

Yes, someone you can trust, Ellen agreed. Just don't forget to trust yourself, Ms. Cabot. That's the first step.

Friday, November 21, 2014

11:00 a.m.

Madeline's assistant looked up at the woman standing in front of her desk. Ms. Taylor didn't have any meetings scheduled, and it was never pleasant to tell her about any sort of surprise.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"I do not," Alex said. "I need to see her anyway."

"I'm afraid that's quite impossible," the young woman said. "She's all booked up."

"Tell her it's Alex Cabot. She'll see me." Her voice was firm and her intent was clear-she was seeing Ms. Taylor, and she wasn't leaving until she did. Olivia had offered to come with her, but Alex had declined. She felt stronger than she had in quite a while, and this was something she had to do. It wouldn't change anything in the long run-the die was cast, after all-but it was important to Alex that she fight her own battle this time.

The secretary looked at her, recognition dawning in her eyes. She picked up her phone and called her boss. Alex could only hear one side of the conversation.

"Someone is here to see you...no, you don't have any appointments, but I think this is important...yes, right now...but Ms. Taylor, it's the District Attorney."

Less than a minute later, Alex was being ushered into Madeline's inner sanctum. She'd never been in Madeline's office, not even when they'd been involved years earlier; she observed the space for a moment while Madeline eyed her coolly, an expression on her face that could either be mild amusement or fury building to a crescendo. The art on the walls was similarly inscrutable: large canvases, almost uniformly monochromatic, were the only real color in the room. The red expanse of a Rothko demanded attention in a landscape of steel and smoked-glass furniture, all grays and blacks, with clean lines and no flourishes. It was, oddly enough, completely unlike Madeline's Upper East Side apartment, with its formal French Provincial aesthetic, fussy furniture and soft palette-with one exception: While the art was very different from that in the apartment, Alex had no doubt it was also original, and obscenely expensive.

While Alex took in her surroundings, Madeline took in Alex, watching her very carefully, as she always did.

"This is a pleasant surprise," she finally said.

"I know you hate surprises," Alex said. "And it's certainly not intended to be pleasant."

"Yet it is," Madeline corrected. "I'm always happy to see you, darling. Or are you here on some official business, Madame District Attorney?"

"While it would give me great pleasure to put you behind bars, I'm afraid your reprehensible nature won't be enough to get a conviction."

"I'm entitled to a jury of my peers, anyway, and we both know such a thing doesn't exist. Only one person is up to that task." Madeline looked pointedly up and down Alex's body, and then locked eyes with her. "Forgive my manners, Alexandra. Please sit down."

"I won't be here long."

"Nonetheless…" Madeline trailed off, her right hand extended, gesturing toward one of the two Barcelona chairs in front of her desk. When Alex hesitated, she continued. "Don't repay my inadvertently delayed hospitality with willful rudeness, Alexandra. No one appreciates insolence."

Alex sat down, almost without meaning to. Madeline didn't make requests, really. She gave elegantly phrased orders, and was accustomed to having them obeyed. Her tone brooked no discussion, and someone like Alex, who'd been raised to be gracious and polite in any situation, was programmed to follow those commands, observing social niceties as unconsciously as she was adhered to the laws of physics or gravity.

Madeline put her in a trance-always had. Alex had no idea why, or how, but she was prepared for it today. She broke the nascent spell by placing her left thumb on the underside of her wedding ring-a tiny gesture, imperceptible to someone who was focused on her face and her overall body language. It was enough, though. It slowed her pulse, reminded her to breathe-reminded her of Olivia. Alex's life was a series of these minute gestures: gripping her thumb tightly between her fingers to keep from crying-a tell Olivia had spotted on that trip to Baltimore; smoothing her skirt as she rose to question a witness or deliver a summation; a gentle tap of her watchband to focus herself in a meeting or interview. They were a means of coping, a method to find control when it seemed well and truly lost, a talisman against fear or failure. They were quirks, possibly even superstitions...but they worked. She was ready to face her demons, and that was something Madeline hadn't counted on.

"I'm glad to see you've come to your senses, darling. You've forced my hand a bit the past few days, and I've had to deploy some measures I didn't enjoy."

"Involving Sloane Jansen was a nice touch," Alex said.

"I'd have preferred not to," Madeline claimed. "You left me no choice. I hope we're past that unpleasantness, though."

"We are past it," Alex said. "Though not in the way you might imagine. I've come here to tell you that I won't be complying with your ridiculous demands. Our recent encounters were a mistake that I have decided not to continue. My life has been infinitely better since our relationship ended, and I have neither the need nor the desire to return to that darkness."

"Darkness?" Madeline seemed genuinely puzzled.

"I can't do it again, Madeline. I can't, and I won't."

"Very well. I'm not happy to hear that, of course, but I'm prepared for any contingency."

"Just let it go," Alex implored. "For your own good."

"My own good?" Madeline laughed. "You mean Sergeant Benson's own good, don't you?"

"No, I don't. You're making these veiled threats because you don't have a prayer of doing anything to harm her career. I've made sure of it. She's bulletproof. You'd have had better luck coming after me."

"I never pictured you as the fierce protector, Alexandra. This is a new side of you. I think your bravado is ill-advised, but I am always happy to discover new things about you."

"You never saw this side of me because when we were together, I had nothing worth protecting." It was true-she hadn't even deemed herself worthy of protection then. She still wasn't sure she deserved it, but she knew Olivia did. "I won't let you ruin my life, Madeline. This ends now."

"You're not leaving me with a lot of options, darling."

"There is one option," Alex said. "It's the simplest thing in the world to do. Just move on. It isn't worth it. I'm not worth it."

"I can't do that. Steps were taken, Alexandra. I've risked so much to get you back. I believe you belong with me…"

"You believe I belong to you," Alex said.

"Is there a difference?"

Alex sighed. "The difference is so profound I can't even explain it."

"You have no idea how high the stakes are, or what cards I'm holding. My hand is too good to simply fold and walk away. I will, however, respect your wishes by leaving Sergeant Benson out of this. She seems predisposed to self-sabotage anyway-I'll leave her to her own devices."

"Thank you."

"You won't be as lucky, I'm afraid."

"I figured as much," Alex said. "You'll do what you have to do. We all will."

"You're very sanguine about this, darling, which tells me you have no idea what is about to happen. I will tear your world apart. You'll be electoral poison. The media will be unrelenting. Your vanquished opponent will be seeking revenge, and he'll be armed with all the evidence he needs to accelerate your undoing…"

Alex interrupted her. "I didn't do anything, and you know it, Madeline. You planted those files on Reilly's computers, or you had someone do it for you. I had nothing to do with it."

"That won't matter," Madeline said flatly. "I've told you all that before, Alexandra. It will appear that you broke numerous state and federal laws in order to discredit a man in the worst possible way, ruining his life for your own selfish purposes. You'll never be a prosecutor again. And your wife? She won't want anything to do with you."

"You don't know her," Alex said. "I've told her everything, and she is standing by me."

"For now, perhaps. Don't be fooled. She's a runner, darling, and she's spent her whole life looking for a way out. She's a self-righteous do-gooder who will flee your sinking ship so fast it will make your head spin. How do you think a sex crimes detective will feel about staying married to someone who planted child pornography simply to win an election? She'll never trust you again. In fact, no one will ever trust you again. You will have no hope of recovery, personally, professionally or politically."

Alex had heard all she needed to hear.

"I'm done, Madeline. And so are you. You just don't know it yet."

Alex walked out of the office, not giving Madeline a chance to reply, closing the door behind her. She met two men in the outer office-they had taken over the space and asked Madeline's frightened assistant to leave. She took of her suit jacket, and one of the men reached up under the tail of her blouse to remove the wire she was wearing there.

"Did you get what you needed?" Alex asked them.

"I think we had more than enough already," he assured her. "This is just insurance in case Mr. Patel changes his mind about testifying."

"It's good insurance, though," his partner smiled. "You did a great job. Wanna stay around and watch all this?"

"No, I don't think so," Alex said. "I've got better things to do."

She slipped her jacket back on and headed toward the door that led into the hallway, planning to go have lunch with Olivia and fill her in. Neither of them would be involved in this case any further, unless they were called to testify. This was one prosecution from which Alex would have been glad to recuse herself. She heard the two men behind her as they loudly knocked on Madeline's door, opening it and entering without waiting for the occupant's permission.

"Madeline Taylor?"

"Who the hell are you?"

"Special Agent Christian Lewis, this is my partner Jason Rogers. You are under arrest for violating Title 18, Section 2252, relating to the possession and distribution of child pornography. You have the right to remain silent..."