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corleonewrites · 7 months ago

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La Vérité

AU: Anatomy of a Fall (2023)

Vincent Renzi x Original Female Character fanfic.

Summary: Two people connected by the same past. Two lawyers. And one tangled case which brought them back together again, giving them the opportunity to sort out their feelings towards each other, no matter how painful memories are to both of them can be.

Chapter 1. Consolations, S. 172: No. 3 Lento placido

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Life is full of unexplainable chances, turns and vicissitudes, which are leading to the mind-blowing conclusions. By these forces people can meet again after years apart, when they promised to never see each other. And it happened to me.

It was the regular cold winter morning in Paris, when I left my apartment, listening to classic’s music playlist in my headphones, while heading to the bureau where I work, reading a book while in the crowded underground. Paris was slowly waking up for the last day before the weekend, streets were busy with people hurrying to their working places, but I made my trip to the bureau fast as I usually do, and I opened the door to the lawyers' office when Franz Liszt’s composition was finishing its tune in my headphones.

“Good morning, Madeleine”, I said to my colleague, entering the bureau.

“Morning, Camille”, she replied, checking her makeup in the small mirror, “I hope you didn’t forget that we’re celebrating your solved case tonight at Brasserie Lipp”, she said, before I disappeared in my cabinet, “I’m not giving up my plans to find you a handsome boyfriend there”, I rolled my eyes when I heard the ending of her sentence but thankfully, she didn’t see it.

“How could I forget about this evening, especially after that hard case, we deserve the celebration”, I turned to Madeleine and smiled, “But I’m working just fine without boyfriend, but thanks for your consideration” I finished, and closed the door behind me, when she replied: “I won’t give up, Camille, you know me” which put a smile on my face.

I didn’t like to discuss my private life with anyone, not with my friends nor, of course, with my colleagues. Besides, I had my own love secrets which never led to anything and after which I decided to give up finding someone for me. Probably I wasn’t designed for love and I was full of hard job as a lawyer, trying to find balance between work and my life, and enjoyed every minute of my free time. I didn’t need no one. Or I thought I didn’t.

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During her teenage years, my mother read the play Camille by Alexandre Dumas and was so impressed by the name that she decided to name her future daughter the same way. So, when she married my father and when I was born, I got that name. Camille Cadieux. My parents were successful and very important lawyers and both of them came from lawyers’ dynasties: English and French. And since my childhood I spent summer vacations both in countryside in Cambridgeshire and in Provence, where my grandparents live. My childhood was full of literature and old films, I loved to get lost in stories that they were telling me through pages of a book or film frames. As a grown-up woman I continued to enjoy these hobbies of mine, they helped me not only to relax after hard long working day, but also to forget my thoughts.

I always knew that I would be a lawyer, just like my parents. For a 27-year-old lawyer I’ve achieved great heights in a short time, taking a couple of factors in mind: I’ve known a lot about law since I was a teenager, with the help of my parents of course, and I didn’t want and had no right to let them down.

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My computer was turned on, I poured fresh coffee in my cup and started to check e-mails. Regular morning routine. But suddenly my eyes caught an e-mail with painfully familiar name and surname, which I wanted to forget and thought that I succeeded in it:

“Hello, Camille,

You are probably surprised to see this e-mail from me, after a long time since we’ve spoken for the last time. But I recalled how good you were at your studies in my class and I’ve heard about your successful cases at court in the past year, so I’m asking you to help me with one case on which I’m currently starting to work. I will understand if you decline it, and I will be happy if you agree.

Please, reply to this message as soon as possible. I will be glad to hear from you again.

Best regards,

Vincent”

I reread this message a couple of times trying to process what was written there. I knew only one person named Vincent. Vincent Renzi. Maître Vincent Renzi, who was my tutor when I was studying MA at law school, whom I wanted to forget and never meet again. But at the same time deep inside me I wanted to meet him once again, even though it��d probably be hard, but couldn’t resist.

After tapping the reply to my ex-tutor, I took a sip from my coffee, stood up from the desk and looked at the streets of Paris from the window, opening it slightly to have a smoke. Funny how our paths connected again in the strangest way possible. But it wasn’t so strange, because we work in the same sphere, solving cases and being presented during courts. We never met in courts before nor worked together. Maybe it was the right time to start.

The reply came fast. We agreed to meet each other the next day, on Saturday, at the small bistro to discuss the case and after we confirmed the meeting my heart started to beat a little faster, so quiet, like hidden and almost forgotten feelings which I have towards Vincent started to wake up. I wish I couldn’t feel anything, but it just won’t stop easily, all that I needed to do was to be professional, just how I always was at first during my studies and now during my work.

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Office hours finished fast and the computer with lamp on the table were switched off, and I stood up from my chair, taking the coat and tying scarf around my neck, brushed my long dark brown hair a little with right hand and exited my cabinet agreeing to meet Madeleine before the Brasserie Lipp’s entrance at 20:00.

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Brasserie Lipp was crowded and loud as always, with a big queue of people waiting outside to have a seat at the famous bistro. The atmosphere at our table was busy: me and Madeleine were discussing solved cases, thinking about future ones, when my thoughts were interrupted by the memories and anxiety to meet Vincent the next day. The ideas about the case on which he wanted to ask me to work on together with him combined together with bubbles from champagne which I was drinking at Brasserie Lipp’s and this strange mixture was circling around, trying to build the right narrative and thick line of evidence even though I had no idea what the case was going to be like and how it’d turn everything upside down.

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The taxi drove me away from the noise of working Friday and evening at Brasserie Lipp as I was heading back home, with the only aim to get inside my bed and have a good sleep, which I didn’t have for a long period of time and thought that wouldn’t have if I’d agree to help Vincent with the case. But one thought still couldn’t leave me: why did Vincent write me after all these years of silence and why even me? It wasn’t a lie when he said that I was very good and very successful lawyer, I was flattered when he said in this letter that I was one of the best in the class, because it was true, not only because he wanted to satisfy my ego. Leos are all the same, we need to please ourselves and our egos.

I took a quick shower, put on my pajamas and after I finished my evening skincare routine, I looked at myself in the mirror while brushing my long brown hair: gray-green eyes which looked a little tired after a hard-working week, a scar on my right cheek, which I got as a child. My scar especially was my highlight which I loved, together with my short height. I sighed and walked into my bedroom, turning off the main light leaving one lamp on bedside table on.

The bedside table was occupied with everything: a book which I was reading at that time, a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, lip balm for my dry lips, small photo frame with a picture of me when I was a child and the clock which was showing almost 1 o’clock in midnight. I turned off the vinyl player which was playing beautiful jazz compositions and finally jumped inside the warm blanket hoping that I’d fall asleep very fast as I was afraid to drown in endless thoughts and memories about my past with Vincent and anxiety about meeting him the very next day, acting that nothing never happened between us.

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La Vérité masterlist

#fanfiction #fanfic #fic writing #vincent renzi x ofc #vincent renzi fanfiction #vincent renzi x age gap #vincent renzi x original female character #vincent renzi x strangers to lovers #anatomy of a fall fanfic #anatomy of a fall fic #anatomy of a fall fanfiction #fic writer #fanfic writing #film fanfiction #swann arlaud #swann arlaud fanfic #anatomy of a fall

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bethecliche · 8 months ago

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my love mine all mine l vincent renzi x f!original character

summary: after seeing her for the first time, he just fell (deeply) in love word count: 3.7k content: female reader (no description of genitalia), mention of sex, mention of stretch marks, description of hair and eye color (but not texture or skin color), french laws and locations being misinterpreted, use of tv shows and books I didn't watch or read, non canon note: english is not my first langague! I wrote this in portuguese and then translated to english myself, there's a chance you'll find an error or something. I'm sorry sorry! I highly recommend you to listen to the song while reading.

you can check the aesthetic references for this oneshot here but take note that none of the people actual faces on this reflects on the character identity that I wrote, so don't base all of the details on the references for the characters in story.

The first time he noticed her, she was sitting on one of the wooden benches outside the courtrooms. She seemed nervous, shaking her legs and glancing restlessly between the watch on her wrist and the clock on the hallway wall, as if it made much difference. Regardless of her worried expression and furrowed brow, Vincent felt that he had never seen such an attractive woman in his life. From her brown hair to her brown boots, looked like she stepped out of one of those '70s fashion advertisements he'd seen in vintage magazines as a kid. He didn't had time to notice much more than that, as he crossed the hallway and headed to his session. At the end of the day, of course, she was no longer there.

What seemed to have been one of those street crushes that you see when crossing an avenue and never think about again, stayed in Vincent's head for a few days. Every time he passed by the corridor, he waited to see if the brunette would be there. He tried to guess what she was doing there that day and whether there was a possibility of bumping into her again, a question to which the universe answered “yes”.

Two weeks later, this time leaving work, he looked down buttoning his blue coat, distracted in his thoughts when he noticed the same brown boots a few steps in front of him. The stranger held a cigarette between her fingers and had her arms pressed against her body. Although it was snowing lightly, it was extremely cold for an autumn day. Her look was different, probably due to the weather, with a coat with a puffed collar and puffed sleeves, once again looking like she belonged to a previous decade. The wind ruffled her hair a little and the moonlight illuminated her posture, a scene Vincent believed could have come from a movie.

All his past relationships were comfortable. Someone he knew in high school, someone he knew in college, someone who was introduced by friends or someone his friends encouraged him to talk during an outing. He didn't consider himself an introvert, but he never needed to pursue someone who was interested. Things just happened for him. It wasn't his comfort zone just to approach a stranger like that, much less at the door of his work, but something that day said it was the right thing to do.

He took a cigarette out of his pocket and approached the girl asking to borrow a lighter. His sudden plan only went so far.

As soon as she turned to face him, she gave a friendly and inviting smile, taking the object out of her pocket and activating the flame in front of his face. Vincent stood still, staring into her eyes throughout the action, mesmerized by her and her sparkling brown eyes.

“Will I ever meet a lawyer who doesn’t smoke?” She asked as she extinguished the flame, placing the lighter and her free hand back in her pocket. Too cold to let it out.

His response took a few agonizing seconds, as his mind was far away and still lost in her gaze. He composed himself, running a hand through his hair and looking away.

“The day this happens, let me know. I want to be there.” Vincent laughed awkwardly, causing the girl to laugh as well. At that moment, he felt that he wanted to provoke more of this reaction, he wanted to see more of her smile and so the conversation flowed.

His first question was how she guessed he was a lawyer and not a passerby to which she replied, "You stand like a lawyer." He shared how being a lawyer was boring and tedious, but it did have its dramatic moments in court when she asked if the career was challenging like its portrait on TV. He also discovered that she was there to pay a car ticket caused by her younger brother, hence the great nervousness when he first saw her a few weeks ago.

“When my parents told me that my 20th birthday present was a baby brother, I already felt within myself that I would be the best sister in the world. That I would try to make his life as easy as possible. 18 years later, he asks to borrow my car to visit his girlfriend - which I don't hesitate to do, after all I support young love. And the little shit-head makes sure on parking in front of a fire hydrant.” The girl blew smoke to her right side, not taking her eyes off him. “Would you be my lawyer if I try to choke him?”

Vincent could only laugh at her spontaneity, easy way of talking about life and easy way of making conversation.

“Just threaten him, it will be an easier case for me to win.”

They talked about Metz and how her family decided to move to Paris when she was a teenager because they knew the city needed more beautiful people, a fact Vincent agreed with. In order not to dismiss him, in a very charming way, she praised his Parisian accent and said that such a comment did not apply to him and only God knows how Vincent felt inside after that.

The two shared their tastes, such as reading romances and watching Dix pour cent every night before bed. It was as if they knew each other much more than the 1 hour they spent together under the snow. They shared maybe two more cigarettes before realizing it was getting a little too late to chat like that on the street.

He doesn't even know how he got out of that situation alive and managed to get home with her number.

Their first date was at a local cinema on a Friday night for a re-showing of Buffet Froid, a film Anne had never seen.

He didn't remember the last time he felt butterflies in his stomach, although it was guaranteed that nothing could compare to this time. As he got ready and tried to match his best t-shirts with his beige pants (which he eventually changed out of, finding them too tacky), Vincent remained nervous thinking that she might not show up or that this would be the first and last time they would meet in this circumstance.

In the end, all the “first time” flutter went out the window when he saw her smiling and waving on the other side of the street, already with the tickets in her hand. “I'm glad you came.” She said, holding his arm as they walked through the door of the establishment.

“I wouldn't miss it.” he replied.

The two took watching films very seriously, so it was only during the ending credits, after a lot of laughter, small comments and bumping hands on the popcorn bucket, that the two kissed.

He felt the softness of her skin on his hand and her sweet scent of perfume, in addition, of course, to the hot and saccharine kiss. It was slow, serene, just as they both wanted, being able to feel each other in that moment. It was also Anne's desire to slowly run her fingers through his hair and she didn't hesitate to take advantage of the opportunity.

After throwing their trash away, the two walked out of the cinema, now closer to each other, hand in hand. The weather wasn't as cold as when they first met and they were free to enjoy the warmth of their bodies without so many layers covering them.

“For a great 70's mind, you never having watched Buffet Froid is an insult.” He pointed at her with his free hand, wanting to tease her.

Anne rolled her eyes. Even though she liked the film, she didn't want to give a taste. “Obviously you would like action movies like that. It suits you.”

“I’ll make you like it too.” He stated, trying to imply that he wanted them to meet again, to which she responded by kissing his cheek and saying, “Next time, let's watch a romcom.”

Once, twice, three, four and a few more times, all being unusual dates. Sometimes she would call during his workday and say she would pick him up for an adventure. She drove aimlessly, just the two of them talking about their days and observing the city lights. These were Vincent's favorite “dates”, as they all ended with the two of them making out like two teenagers parked in the driveway of his apartment.

The more he got to know about her, the more he wanted to constantly be a part of her life. Anne owned a clothing store downtown, something he never tired of saying was the “most suitable job her”. On the last date they had, she took him to the closed store and put on a fashion montage for him, with improvised note cards on paper left on the counter and all. But she knew that the judge had been bought when he only gave her 10s. She also took the opportunity to get Vincent to do the same, putting him once again out of his comfort zone to find out that bell bottom jeans don't really suit him.

They even got to watch a car race - something that not even Anne had done, she had just decided that it was an experience they needed to have. They both entended up hating it, but the important thing was that the company was great.

That was one of the nights Anne slept at his house.

They ate some junk food from the fridge and watched a silly but captivating show on TV while they chatted more. When she realized she could sleep at any moment, Anne got up to brush her teeth and change her clothes, putting on her uniform for whenever she was there: a Vincent t-shirt.

Vincent found it charming how she captivated his gaze regardless of what she was doing. He loved her unique and sophisticated style, but he also loved seeing her like this, casually wearing his clothes, in his home, as if she were his. And lastly, he loved seeing her with nothing on.

Every detail of her body, her birthmarks on her shoulder and that one next to her beautiful eyes or her stretch marks on her back, everything about her seemed to have been chosen down to the millimeter. When they made love, his hands went everywhere, trying to reach as much of her as he could, to feel the warmth she exuded.

And the best way to love her was by looking into her eyes, admiring her beauty, running his lips up and down her body, being grateful for the privileged position it was to be able to love her.

Mornings were like nights, with him waking up earlier and being able, once again, to admire the woman beside her.

“You are even more beautiful in the morning.”

The two walked through the streets of Paris, both tipsy, looking for an available taxi in the dead of night. With their relationship now more established and their schedules aligned, they made it a challenge to come up with these unusual date only once a month so it wouldn't lose its fun. Today had been the day to go to the opera and due to their lack of sobriety, they didn't seem to have left anywhere other than the shabbiest bar on the corner.

The event was boring as fuck and they left halfway through to drink somewhere more enjoyable. They found an open bar showing a PSG versus Marseille match. Neither of them supported the teams or understood about football rules, but this seemed like a new opportunity for them to have another different experience that day.

One laughter after another, some passionate kisses between drinks and the two were celebrating PSG's victory at the bar with some strangers whom they befriended.

“My mother wants to meet you. My brother too. I said I might have a lawyer for the next time he's up to no good. Do you think it’s too early?”

When drunk, Anne tended to speak fast and slurred, but Vincent understood perfectly. He smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing the tip of her nose. “I will love meeting your family.”

They never actually asked each other to go steady, but it was clear that they already belonged to each other at that point.

Vincent was on his cell phone writing a text to his mother about the shopping list for Christmas dinner and their desire to participate in decorating the tree (Anne's request to spend more time with her mother-in-law) while his girlfriend was lying on his lap reading his copy of Around the World in 80 Days (and she was loving it, for sure).

It was a lazy day for both of them at Vincent's place. A year into their relationship, the two of them loved sharing these moments together doing different activities.

“She said she misses you a lot and looks forward to seeing you on Christmas, but that you're banned from being near the kitchen when it is time to prepare desserts. Everything you touch that’s sweet ends up burning for some reason.”

Her smile, excited by her mother-in-law's affection, turned into a face indignant at the rule she imposed. "What?" She looked up from the book and pulled Vincent's hand to check if the message was real and it was. “This is so unfair!”

“Sorry, Anne, you’re just really bad at this.”

She lightly pushed his arm and pretended to be uncomfortable, although she knew it was true and wasn't really upset. Before she could return to her book, Vincent placed his cell phone on the table and began talking.

“One more thing, huh,” he cleared his throat, “I made one more space on the rack for you. I don't want certain clothes to get wrinkled in the drawer. I’ll make room in one more drawer too.”

Anne put the book aside and knelt on the sofa, facing her boyfriend. “Won’t it bother you? I already have space in my bedroom drawer, bathroom… In fact, there are a lot of my things scattered around the house. I don’t want to impose my space here.”

This was a subject that she had also been waiting to comment on for some time. By working her own hours at the store and having an employee to take her place wherever needed, Anne had a more flexible schedule than Vincent and it was easier to stay at his house, helping to keep everything on track and cooking for both of them. He would arrive just before dinner time and they could enjoy together without rushing to do the chores.

Because of this, the few clothes she wore just to sleep there became a drawer full, her makeup in the bathroom sink and her shoes near the door.

The gray-haired man hugged her around the waist, kissing her forehead and assuring her of his action. “You are not imposing anything, mon chéri. I want you to use this space. I want to have more and more of you here.”

For him, having her scent permeate the rooms was a gift wrapped in the best bow. Knowing that every day he would come home to see her welcoming smile and welcome kiss was the biggest work incentive.

“It feels like my home.” She whined.

“It’s your home. Our home.” He insisted.

In his favorite action, he cupped her face and looked warmly into her eyes, admiring her features trying to associate with what he was trying to say. They both smiled at each other realizing where the topic was going.

“Are you…”

“I want you to move in with me.”

The beautiful smile that filled his heart appeared on her face and Vincent, who was sure of her choice, but a little afraid of her accepting it, smiled too at her positive reaction.

In conclusion, he ended up needing to make more closet space for her countless boots, but he was happy that she could call the space her own (and she looks great in those boots, he would never complain about making room for them).

The snack table was almost empty and that made Anne happy. She might not be good at desserts, but her food was always praised and she almost never had leftovers when she cooked for her friends.

“This sandwich is delicious, aunt Anne!” Daniel stated, taking another one from the table and sitting on the sofa next to her. “Can I take some home?”

“Of course you can! There’s more stored in the kitchen, I’ll put it on the side for you to take.” She continued, now coming closer to whisper. “You can give Snoop a bite, I won’t tell your mom.”

“Hey, I’m watching you two!” Sandra said towards the back of the sofa, pointing at the two jokingly. She was talking to Vincent leaning against the wall in the hallway, looking anxious.

There was approximately 10 people spread throughout the room at this gathering. The couple chose to host a celebration for the launch of Sandra's new book, a dear friend of both, and tried to make room for everyone present. She was very delighted with the honor, although unaccustomed to the positive attention she was receiving.

Even though they weren't glued to each other at the party, Anne and Vincent always stopped for a moment to exchange a kiss and ask if everything was okay. He, even more so, couldn't stop admiring his girlfriend from afar. Parties like this always made him happy to be able to share the love he had for her and also show others that this was his girl.

It was around 6pm that they said their goodbyes and thanked their friends for being there. After closing the door, Anne took a deep breath and leaned against it with Vincent kissing her neck and hugging her waist.

“Had fun today?” He asked against her neck, kissing slowly until he reached her face. Hugging him back, she just nodded yes, pulling him into a longing and passionate kiss.

Vincent pressed his body against hers and tightened his grip, placing his free hand against the wall for support. Everything was going well, until Vincent suddenly stopped, as if he couldn't give in to temptation yet.

He also took a deep breath, with a shy smile as he looked at her.

“Is something wrong?” She asked, still leaning against the door and resting her hands on his shoulder.

"What?" He retorted.

“During the party, you kept looking at me like that, with those heart-eyes, that fool in love face of yours. And now you're doing it again. It seems... different.”

Vincent laughed awkwardly, as if he was unprepared to respond that quickly. “In my defense, I always look like a fool in love when I’m with you.”

Before anything else, Vincent took a red velvet box out of his pocket and opened it, showing a silver ring made especially for her. With the hand that was on her waist, he slipped into her hand and intertwined their fingers.

“Kneeling isn’t your style, nor are long speeches in front of our friends, but I can’t just leave the ring in your hand without saying anything. The day I saw you for the first time, I was intrigued. The second time, that feeling I had of needing to talk to you urgently, of not letting the opportunity pass, I think, somehow, I knew we were going to get to this moment right now. By the third time - I was already in love. Head over heels, worshiping the ground you pass, heart-eyes, whatever you want to call it. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't feel those butterflies in my stomach before seeing you, that I don't feel the eager to be by your side. If you do me the honor of marrying me, I can promise that you will have a man who wakes up in love with you every day. Forever.”

Anne's eyes were already full of tears as soon as she saw the box and she couldn't help but shed them when she heard the proposal.

The last 4 years of their lives were instinctive, passionate, in a way she never thought she would experience. All her last lovers didn't last long, they couldn't handle her personality or couldn't love her right, so she was left with no hope that it would change. But Vincent's speech was something that she not only believed, she felt. Every day, she felt his love, his affection and his care. Wave of action speaks louder than words and she trusted her man.

There was no other answer than yes.

The same word was repeated by the two of them at the registry office a few months later. The idea was never a big party, it didn't suit either of their personalities, but Anne always wanted a dress and a veil, so they were both there, in their wedding clothes just before lunch time in the registry office next to Vincent's work place.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!”

With that sentence, the two shared a classic wedding kiss, with Vincent holding her around the waist and Anne throwing her leg up. They could live that moment over and over again, but they needed to go out for a little celebration party with their friends before they left for their honeymoon (and Anne was more than eager to have her friends around so she could toss the bouquet).

Outside, in another snowy day, Anne reached through the car window and took a black bag from the glove compartment, handing it to her now husband.

“What is it?” He held on, swinging by the loop to feel the weight so he could find out what it could be.

“It's your wedding gift.” She cheerfully replied.

He stole one more kiss from his wife before opening the bag, already imagining what could be inside.

“It has our initials and today’s date on it,” she pointed to the bottom where the details were, “so no other girl coming out of court will need to offer you the lighter.”

Vincent took a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and lit it with his newest gift, but without inhaling, just lighting it for the sake of it.

“No one will have my love. Only you, mon chéri."

#vincent renzi #swann arlaud #anatomy of a fall #fluff #i scrobbled this song 102 times to write this #my love mine all mine #vincent renzi fanfiction #vincent renzi x original character

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corleonewrites · 4 months ago

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La Vérité

AU: Anatomy of a Fall (2023)

Vincent Renzi x Original Female Character fanfic.

Chapter 8. Symphony No. 5 in C-Sharp Minor: IV. Adagietto. Sehr langsam

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Startled from a dream in which my body seemed to be falling, I opened my eyes, trying to breathe normally as my heart was beating faster.

The TV in the hotel room was turned on: I didn’t realize that I fell asleep after that conversation with Vincent when he tried to reach me, making pathetic try to explain the relationship between him and Sandra. I didn’t even change into pajamas.

Crimson Rivers was on air. I liked that film but wasn’t ready to rewatch it especially when it was 3 o’clock in the morning and busy day for both Renzi and me was waiting for us: the last hearing was scheduled in a few days and we needed to be ready for it. I turned the TV off, put pajamas on, but couldn’t go to sleep again without the help of my sleeping medication and putting socks on: my feet were too cold.

Of course, I knew that there needed to be a serious talk with Vincent, because I couldn’t take it, that uncertainty between us: either we could stay friends or colleagues, if it could be possible at all, I wasn’t sure about it, or we were about to break all the strings which were connecting us. Our common romantic past needed to be in the past. It was clear for me that he found someone else.

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We were in a team, so, of course, we needed to spend the days which were left before the final hearing together: looking through documents, writing speeches and checking the evidence. He invited me to his hotel room and from early in the morning until late evening we were working, even forgetting to have lunch.

Somehow both of us began to believe that we would win the case: I always had that particular feeling which I couldn’t explain but when I knew that the case was going to be successful – I always felt it. And that particular feeling started to appear in my head.

“Well, I think we’re done for tonight. And for this case. We can finally relax before the hearing, and we have time until the day after tomorrow to make sure that everything is ready”, Vincent closed his folder with documents and notebook and looked at me, “I think we deserve a bottle of nice wine and good dinner, don’t you think?”, he looked at his watches, checking the time, “And we definitely need the fresh air”

“There is a good place near my hotel”, I said, “We can sit there”

I put my documents inside my bag and looked at watches as well. It felt so strange to talk to him after that evening, the pressure was floating in the air, and it felt like if we didn’t go outside – the eruption was about to begin.

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Of course, one bottle of wine at the restaurant wasn’t enough for us, and since both of us knew that we needed to talk, no matter how drunk we could be, we decided to spend the rest of the evening at my hotel room, talking and drinking wine.

“What are you planning to do after this work?”, the conversation at my hotel room started with a very ordinary, when Vincent asked me this question.

Finishing twirling the lighter on the table and putting the leftovers of my cigarette in the ashtray, I replied, without looking at him:

“I’d love to have some days off – it was one of the most dreadful cases that I’ve ever had before.”

“Honestly, mine as well”, Renzi replied, and poured more wine in our glasses, “But on the other hand, it was very nice experience to work with you, Camille, I’ve heard about your work and I can see why you’ve been recommended as one of the best”

I just smirked, but he caught it

“Why are you smirking? It’s the truth”

“Oh, please, Renzi, just stop sugar coating yourself.”, I finally looked at him, trying to find the courage to tell him everything that I was keeping inside me. Vincent looked at me with frown, “I will never forget how did you trample on our relationships, and now you’re trying to shove it off with pleasing me, it’s so pathetic”

“Camille”, Vincent moved closer to me, trying to take my hand, but I shoved it off and stood up, moving back, and stood near the sofa. The rage was growing inside of me. I was angry at him and his attempts to keep me calm.

“Why the fuck are you acting like you are an innocent person?”, my voice started to break into a scream, “I can’t believe that you forgot that it was you who decided to break up with me saying that it was a mistake to begin relationship with me because I’m a lot younger than you and you didn’t know that it would go that far?”, I paused, catching my breath, when Vincent raised from his seat and moved closer to me, placing his hand on a sofa which was separating us:

“Because I had no idea that it would be so hard not to think about you and not to care about you. It was I who was afraid scared of the responsibility, of other people’s opinion about us.”

“Now you sound ridiculous.”, I smirked crookedly, I couldn’t believe that he was talking like that and was taken aback, “You’re acting like a young adult and now you’re playing with my feelings. You could at least tell me that you and Sandra are a thing and I would understand it”, my voice broke down, when Vincent made the last attempt to catch my hand when I moved back again, and this time he was successful, when I tried to pull it out, he squeezed it harder, talking loudly:

“Sandra and I are NOT a thing, Camille!”, it felt like the walls shook after his words and I finally gave up trying to pull out my hand, “We were never a thing”, Vincent finally released my hand and stood behind the window, looking outside, and I accurately sat on the sofa.

“I know that I was a child. I understood it long time ago, how wrong I was, but was trying to defend myself. Funny how I couldn’t do it, because, believe it or not, I was looking for our meeting but was avoiding it at the same time. I was thinking about you. Sometimes too much”, he looked at me with certainty, “When the case came around, I thought that maybe it would be a good time to finally meet you and talk about us. I was trying to deny it, but when I saw you, Camille, when we began to work together…”

Vincent’s voice broke a little when he started to move closer to me, and I stood up, but keeping the distance, “…what we had years ago, of course, was lost, but I understood that I wanted to come back to what we had together”, he finally finished, but I couldn’t move.

My mind was telling me that it was all lies, but my heart, no matter how hard I tried not to hear its voice, was saying that it was true. Tears came from my eyes, when I asked Vincent with my hoarse voice, as if it had disappeared:

“How can I believe you, Vincent? You hurt me, my feelings, how can I possibly believe you?”

He moved closer to me, couple of centimeters were separating us. Suddenly, everything seemed so quiet, even clocks couldn’t be heard.

“What about trust?”, Vincent whispered, looking in my eyes,

“It’s hard to find”, I whispered, but I moved closer to him, I think I heard not only the beat of my heart, but Renzi’s as well

“But can it be gained back again?”

“Can it?”, without realizing it at first, I put my hand in his hand, when my mind was circling.

“We can try... I don’t want to lose you, mademoiselle Cadieux”,

“Neither do I, monsieur Renzi”, I finally breathed out these words and our lips merged into deep kiss, which I didn’t want to break, but dived deeply into it. How long I’ve been waiting for it, how long my mind and my heart were fighting between each other, but finally my heart won the battle.

We fell on the bed, kissing each other madly, Vincent kissed my neck, when I put my hands in his soft hair, trying to catch my breath. The kisses were deeper and deeper when finally, Vincent took off his sweater and I took off mine, unbuttoning my bra. Renzi took off his jeans and layed down on me, when I closed my eyes, diving into the passionate night which was ahead of us.

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corleonewrites · 5 months ago

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La Vérité

AU: Anatomy of a Fall (2023)

Vincent Renzi x Original Female Character fanfic.

Chapter 6. Symphony No. 3 in F Major, Op. 90 - III. Poco allegretto

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With the development of the case and between court hearings I’ve noticed some things in relationships between Vincent and Sandra. It could be seen in their small talks, glances and I was afraid to admit to myself that probably there was something between them that I couldn’t figure out but probably could understand completely. I was hoping that it was all my imagination. Because I didn’t want to admit to myself that I still felt something deep for Vincent, even though I used to cry my eyes out very late at night because of him.

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“What are you thinking about? It seems like you’re somewhere else all the time”, Vincent’s question brought me back to present, when I was lost in my thoughts again, when we were waiting for our cups of coffee early in the morning at one of local cafés in the center of Grenoble.

The distance between us was growing again, even though we spent all of our free time together either in cafes or at hotel room working on case and saying our thoughts and ideas. We never talked about something else. And I felt the growing hate towards him, and how everything collapsed because of him: our relationships, my love, my trust. I kept recalling it and couldn’t believe how did I agree to work with him after he hurt me like that. And now I saw him having little chats with Sandra, when we’re visiting her place, it irritated me even more, I felt like I was in a trap and I couldn’t escape it.

I hided my eyes by putting back my sunglasses on, lighted up my cigarette, inhaling smoke, and replied dryly:

“I don’t know, I just have these thoughts in my head, that’s all”

“What kind of thoughts?”

I gave Vincent a look which he couldn’t see behind my sunglasses:

“You know what kind of”

“No, I don’t. Tell me, Camille…”

I sighed loudly and put cigarette inside the ashtray even though I didn’t finish smoking it:

“I’m not in the mood of talking, monsieur Renzi, especially now and particularly about them. So, if you don’t mind, I’d rather sit quietly and wait for my cup of coffee”

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During my studies monsieur Renzi and mademoiselle Cadieux were circling around between us not only when we were inside the university walls but also when we wanted to highlighted something: when we were angry or when we were happy, when we wanted to put extra attention on it.

Our meetings after that Jean-Paul’s birthday evening transformed into an affair: very deep and passionate one. We used to meet each other after classes, spending time together, kissing, hugging, talking about everything that worried us. It felt like I’ve finally met someone who could understand me and who could love me for who I am with all my insecurities, strangeness and my melancholy.

Of course, I didn’t forget about my studies: I had a lack of sleep, but I always came to university prepared to explain additional details about my degree essay and what I was planning to develop later, after the critique and tutorials. That’s how the rest of the autumn passed by. And so did December. We spent Christmas night together; it was my first time when I’ve visited Vincent’s place and it was my first time to spend night together with a man. It was thrilling, it was scary and yet it was significant and unexplainable at the same time.

I didn’t know how long would our affair last, I was living in the moment, afraid to think about the future, despite the fact that sometimes my thoughts let myself to think that it would be a long-lasting one. But it wasn’t. And during springtime, when everyone was falling in love our relationships were falling apart.

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“What do you think about Brahms?”, Vincent turned towards me, making me stop in the middle of the crowded street, when we were heading back to our hotels after one of those exhausted hearings which we had, when all the evidence was against us and neither my nor Vincent’s attempts were successful.

I looked closely at Renzi, figuring out what did he mean. He knew that I loved listening to classic music, and then I saw a poster behind his back, informing the citizens of Grenoble about the upcoming concert, dedicating to the music of Johannes Brahms. And the puzzle sorted out in my head.

“Positively.”

“Maybe he’s music will help us to relax a little, before the final fight”, Vincent smirked, also turning back and looking at the poster, “We honestly need that”

I just sighed, imagining how difficult it was going to be for us as lawyers, how tired I was, and how I wanted it to finally be over and how hard I wanted to get away from this place.

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During the whole concert I had a strange feeling that I was listening to the music and I wasn’t there at the same time: for some seconds I thought that I was looking at myself from the side, catching Vincent’s gaze at the same time. Funny how it was irritating me, because of all those glances that I’ve seen between him and Sandra, and it felt like he was playing some kind of the unfunny joke on me: baiting my interest again, forgetting how painful it was for me when we were breaking up.

The concert was almost over, when I heard my most favourite piece from Brahms: Symphony No. 3 in F Major, Op. 90 - III. Poco allegretto. It is very beautiful, mesmerizing, sad and cheerful at the same time, the emotions that a person can feel when listening to it are unexplainable. In one moment, I felt something running down my right cheek: it didn’t occur to me that tears were coming down my eyes and I felt embarrassing and angry at myself at the same time: I didn’t want to let Vincent see my tears. I realized that it was all my emotions which was trying to keep inside me were suddenly bursting out: the space inside of me was full.

I glanced at Renzi, when was imperceptibly trying to wipe away the tears with the back of my hand, hoping that he didn’t see them. I didn’t want to leave my seat, even though I felt myself awful and embarrassed, promising myself to cry all of my anger and sadness out in the dark hotel room. Luckily my companion looked at me only when the music finished and my tears were dry. And I was holding on with all my might so as not to run out of the concert hall on that exact moment.

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Of course, I didn’t know what I could possibly do wrong, everything seemed alright and okay when Vincent and I had an affair. Both of us didn’t give each other a second thought or a worry. But suddenly it broke down somewhere.

It was a springtime, when I was finishing my degree essay, getting it ready to be presented during final assessment and exams. Suddenly, he began to be colder and untalkative, I felt it not only during our lessons or tutorials, but also outside the university. He was responding only with one sentence or couple of words, we began to talk only about my essay. My first thought was that he was tired with all of his teaching, and began to blame myself for spending my time with him when he probably wanted to be alone. Clearly something wasn’t right. But when I asked him if something was wrong, Vincent dryly replied that it was all fine and he was just tired.

I left university for Easter holidays and for final weeks of studies and decided to work on my essay in England, at my father’s house: I made a decision to rethink our relationships with Renzi, but it was him who decided to abruptly cut them off.

My phone ranged.

“I’m calling to have a talk with you.”

My heart dropped.

“Don’t get me wrong, and, please, don’t blame yourself. It’s not you, Camille. It’s me. It was all my fault right from the beginning. You’re one of the most wonderful girls that I’ve met and I really like you…”, he made a pause, I heard his breath, “A lot. I honestly think about you all the time. But, I think that you’re too young for me”, he made a pause again, probably trying to find right words, and continued, “It’s all messed up and mixed teacher/student/lover relationships are surreal and feel not right. I think that both of us understand it, even if now we’re pretending that it’s all alright. I know that you understand me, Camille”

I don’t remember what did he say to me after these words. Probably, something like “I hope we’ll stay friends, I don’t want to sound like coward”. But I remembered how I silently closed the door to my room, closed all my studying books, get on the floor and cried uncontrollably for the rest of the evening.

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corleonewrites · 6 months ago

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La Vérité

AU: Anatomy of a Fall (2023)

Vincent Renzi x Original Female Character fanfic.

Chapter 5. Fantasie in F Minor, Op. 103: D. 940

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“I’m celebrating my birthday this Friday and you’re coming, Camille”, Jean-Louis greeted me the other day in October, when the lecture with Vincent was about to begin.

For that moment my interactions with Renzi were longer and more frequent, and of course, Estella and Loise tried couple unsuccessful attempts to find out what happened between me and Vincent, how close we were and those kinds of things but I cooled their interest down: firstly, because it was none of their business, and secondly, those meetings with him outside the university walls were not romantic at all.

They didn’t leave to something more than just discussions about my degree essay, about films, art and books. We visited museums and cinema but never met in bars or somewhere more private. He kept his distance as I was keeping mine, not knowing what he wanted and what I wanted as well.

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I was always not into relationships, I didn’t really believe in them in general, besides my parents and grandparents got divorced and for a long period of time it was my evidence that all relationships would crack.

Before I met Vincent and before our affair started, I never had close and deep relationships with anyone. Even when I went on a few dates when I thought to consider the idea of having a boyfriend – everything finished with the simple kiss, nothing more. It didn’t bother me, even when all my friends were talking about how great their sex with their boyfriends was and all this kind of stuff, because at least I knew that I was waiting for someone special, even though it sounded very old-fashioned but I was raised in old-fashioned style and was proud of it.

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The first court hearing just finished and all three of us: Sandra, Vincent and I headed back to the woman’s place, discussing what could be done before the next hearing and what could be said during the process. My head was pulsing a little but it was a side effect of my job and I got used to it but with the help of headache pills.

The hearing itself wasn’t in the way of how I thought it would be: just a regular process, without any difficulties. But right when it started, I understood that not only the first one but all the other ones would be harder with every new one. Not only because of the harsh answers and questions from the prosecution, but also because of the evidence which we needed to collect. It would discover all the skeletons in the closet of our defendant.

During the process I pointed out how Renzi was glancing at me from time to time, but these glances were irritating me and I pretended not to see them, concentrating on the process. Even though it was exciting to work with him in the first few minutes – then I pulled myself together and the rest of the hearing ran smoothly. Of course I could still feel his eyes following my actions.

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I checked my black knee-length dress and my loose hair in the mirror near the bar’s entrance and entered the dark room with bright colorful lights and disco ball on the ceiling, holding a present for Jean-Louis in my hand.

The table for our birthday company was in the end of the room, near the bar desk: I recognized some students from our class, Estella and Loise included, and then my gaze dropped on monsieur Renzi, who was sitting in the corner of a big sofa, taking a sip from his drink. He also looked at me, his glance was long and followed me, when I reached Jean-Louis to give him a hug and give a present:

“Happy birthday, Jean-Louis”, I said loudly and hugged my friend, but tried to asked him something on his ear, “You decided to invite all of our teaching staff, am I right?”

He just laughed and winked at me, and tried to reach Vincent, “No, only monsieur Renzi, if you don’t mind”

I glanced at him once again, but shook my shoulders and quickly looked at Jean-Louis again:

“No, I don’t mind at all, it’s your birthday. So let’s celebrate it with a glass of whiskey sour”

It didn’t take much time for me to start dancing on the dancefloor to the beat of old music from 70’s and 80’s: it was a thematical night at the bar. When with every second of the music were carrying me away to feeling of nostalgia that I never had, I couldn’t help myself but was glancing at Vincent, who decided not to dance, but to sit on the sofa. At one point, Estella sat near him and accurately placed her hand on his shoulder, whispering something in his ear, which made me angry, but during this interaction my tutor was thoughtfully looking directly at me, without paying attention to Estella and she quickly left him, looking pissed.

Slow and beautiful song Domani è un altro giorno by Ornella Vanoni suddenly started to play on the background and I glanced at Vincent again: this was the song we’ve heard in Indian Summer, it was playing at the bar scene, it was romantic and deep at the same time and it was one of my favourite scenes in the film as well and I caught myself in a thought that both Renzi and I were in the almost exact same scene at that moment, especially when Jean-Louis who was dancing near me before the song started moved to me and asked to slow dance with him. I didn’t say no, and I wanted to make Renzi jealous.

Probably it was a successful move, because during the whole song he didn’t move his thoughtful gaze from me, when I looked directly at him as well, the tension between us was in the air, with every second and every move it was becoming stronger and unbearable.

In one moment, almost before the song finished, Jean-Louis looked at Vincent then at me, smirked and whispered in my ear:

“I think monsieur Renzi caught an eye on you, Camille”

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“She’s attractive, right?”, Loise asked Vincent, when he was watching Camille slow-dancing with Jean-Louis on a song from Indian Summer.

He stopped thinking about mademoiselle Cadieux only in terms of student-teacher kind of relationships a couple of days ago, before that evening, when surprisingly Jean-Louis invited him to his birthday. She interested him in everything, but most of all she attracted him as mysterious, attractive young woman with sad thoughtful glance. Renzi tried to take it out of his head at the beginning, but since those brief encounters with Camille outside university began to be more and more frequent – he stopped pretending that he didn’t care.

That evening at the bar must put all the dots on “I”. He was feeling it but he didn’t know how to begin. It was completely opposite than his regular court hearings. It was the matter of love and interest.

“Yes, she is”, Vincent didn’t turn to Loise, continuing following Camille’s moves on the dancefloor.

“But mind you, professor, she’s a tough one. She’s not like any other girl, she has her own secrets and she won’t open to anyone without trusting them completely. And she never did…”, Loise continued, moving closer to him, whispering on his ear, but he just moved forward, keeping distance from her.

“I’m able to figure it out by myself, mademoiselle Bisset.”

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The birthday party slowly moved to Jean-Louis’ apartment. Right when everyone was inside, Jean-Lois turned on the music on his record player when girls helped to serve drinks to everyone. Vincent curiously was walking around the apartment, when I sat on the big sofa, slightly drunk and completely tired from bar’s dances.

“How about watching a film?” – Alain, Jean-Louis’ friend, asked, laying on a couch with his drink in hand.

“Oh, yes! Let’s watch something good and old-fashioned”, Estella agreed, when Jean-Louis looked at me and smiled:

“Let Camille Truffaut decide then, I have a big collection of good classics”

Vincent finally returned from his excursion around the apartment and stood behind me, when I thought for some moments, and said:

“Well, since I’m Truffaut tonight we’re watching Truffaut’s Jules and Jim”

“Just how I thought”, laughed Jean-Louis, and pulled out DVD with Jules and Jim out of his impressive collection of cinematography.

The lights went off. When Vincent finally sat beside me on the sofa, and only millimeters separated us from each other – I felt how my heart started to beat faster with every second. I didn’t move. When the film started, after a couple of seconds, I felt Vincent’s hand was slowly moving towards my hand, I didn’t hesitate and finally my hand was in his. It was such a slow move that we didn’t think that someone would notice it. We didn’t actually think that someone would care anyways.

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“Camille? Are you asleep?”, I’ve heard Vincent’s voice from somewhere deep. Probably I fell asleep on our way back to town, as at some point I lost track of our quiet talks in his car and I didn’t even notice it.

“Had lack of sleep previous night, it happens to me recently”, I replied, looking at snowy road.

“Never noticed it, you was very active at court”

“Well, the hearing was tense and nervous, I didn’t have the opportunity to close my eye for a second”, I replied dryly, “And it won’t be easy for sure, not until the last one”

“And yet it feels like there’re going to be a lot more of them. I wonder how Sandra will handle this, I know that she’s very strong, but she can break under those circumstances”

Again, Renzi was talking about Sandra, and again I felt that strange feeling of jealousy inside me, I wondered if he ever was thinking or talking about me with anyone else, when we had our affair which I believed at some point, would last.

I didn’t look at him. I didn’t want to look at him or be around him now. All I wanted was to get out of the car and cool my head by visiting hotel��s lobby bar. At the same time, I was thinking about that difficult case almost 24 hours a day with some pauses for bits of sleep, I wanted to be good and professional, it began to be a huge matter of my personal career. I wanted to beat my tutor. I wanted to beat Vincent.

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The film and the birthday evening were over. It was half past one and everyone began to leave Jean-Louis apartment. Vincent and I were the last ones, the door closed behind us and now we were standing alone in the hall, waiting for the elevator to arrive. Just as the elevator was slowly going up to us, Vincent’s hand was slowly raising up and when the elevator’s doors opened, his right hand was on my shoulder. I couldn’t resist no more. I turned around and we stormed into the elevator, kissing each other deeply.

For a couple of seconds, when the elevator was slowly going down, we were finally alone and we couldn’t hold ourselves back, the feelings that were circling around inside us were finally coming out.

We exited the building, the cold wind of late autumn night greeted us when we reached Vincent’s car. I got inside, and the door of the passengers’ seat closed. No words were spoken between us, it felt like we understood each other just by the way of how we looked at each other, it felt surreal, I couldn’t believe that it was my real life and I wasn’t in the film. The engines started and the car led us to the night full of opened deep feelings and things that couldn’t be said and done in the daylight before that particular evening.

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corleonewrites · 7 months ago

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La Vérité

AU: Anatomy of a Fall (2023)

Vincent Renzi x Original Female Character fanfic.

Chapter 2. Nocturne No. 8 In D Flat Major

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Underground train was running fast, taking me to my destination: to the café, which was situated in the heart of Paris, right in the Place Vendôme, to meet Vincent. Chopin’s compositions in headphones were passing my ears by without notification as memories started to pop up in my head. I didn’t want to fall into them, but I couldn’t help it just how couldn’t delete old conversation with Vincent from my messengers. It was a habit of mine to reread them from time to time, making me hurt once again.

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“Have you heard that there’s going to be teachers exchange this year, Camille?” – asked Loise, a friend of mine when we studied at Université Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne.

It was the final year of master’s studies. I just turned 24 and looked forward to finish studying and start new chapter in life after my graduation. At that time, I wanted to make a pause in studies after receiving my master’s diploma and return to them to get PhD in a couple of years later.

Nothing was extraordinary in exchanging teachers and tutors, as it happened during my BA studies and I myself had one year study exchange and lived in London for final year during receiving bachelor degree.

“And I’ve heard from Estella that he’s quite handsome”, continued Loise, “She saw him in the corridor, he was asking for our lecture room.”

“Oh, please, you’re only thinking about these kinds of things when our exams and degree essays are soon”, I rolled my eyes, taking pens and notebook with student book out from my bag. Sometimes it was pissing me off when everyone was talking only about boys. And yes, sometimes I was jealous for my friends who actually was in relationships, but at that time I concentrated only on my studies.

“And she’s not the only one who thinks the same way! Helene and Annie think that he’s handsome too!”, finished Loise when the door to the lecture’s room opened and the man entered the room: slim figure in grey jacket and black turtleneck, slightly tousled grey hair, and blue-green eyes which caught my attention. I must admit that he was handsome indeed, but at that time I just sat on my desk and opened the notebook, giving to the man zero cunning affair-like attention whatsoever.

Meanwhile, almost every girl in my group, and there weren’t many of them, got all their eyes on him and I felt embarrassed because of it.

“Good morning, class”, the man said and placed his bag on the desk’s chair, “My name is Vincent Renzi and I’ll be your tutor and mentor for this whole study year of your final studies.”, Vincent said and turned to the chalkboard to write his name on it.

I wrote his name in my copybook and looked at him once again, this time paying close attention to what he was about to say to us. How good was his handwriting. I could say it definitely when I looked at the chalkboard with Vincent Renzi name on it.

“I know that we don’t have a lot of time for fooling around, because your final essays are about to be written, but because I don’t know you at all I’m offering you one task for today’s class: take a piece of paper and write a small essay about you. It can be anything you like: why did you decide to study law, what was your favourite subject at school, what’s your favourite colour, just anything”, he smiled a little when he heard how students laughed at his offer cheerfully, “And if you don’t want to write about yourself – write an essay about something you like or want to discuss. Or don’t write at all, and do what you want, but just be quiet.”, he sat on his desk, “You can take your time, you have it until lunchbreak”, Vincent finished and opened his small red notebook and started making notes.

“I’ve told you he is cute”, Loise whispered to me, smirking, but I just rolled my eyes.

“Oh, stop it, Loise, and start writing”.

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“Pyramides Station”, the voice of the underground train informed me. It was my stop.

Trying not to fall into the memories completely, I excited the underground. The street was quiet and snowy. Crossing through the traffic lights and crowds of people who were shopping gifts for Noёl, I was getting closer and closer to my final destination.

I asked myself all the time if I was sure that I wanted to take new case, believing ahead that it’d be as tough as my recent one was, when I promised myself to relax and have couple of days off before starting a new one. But at the same time some thoughts were eating me: that I would miss something very great but very emotional and life-changing if I wouldn’t agree.

This uncertainty was in the air when I finally reached the café and opened the door immediately finding a very familiar man, who was sitting in the left corner, near big windows: same slim figure, his same slightly tousled grey hair which now was covering his eyes a little as he was writing something in the small red book, a cup of black coffee was standing nearby. He heard the sound of my footsteps and raised his head up and smiled with a slightly surprised look on his face when I wanted to fall into the ground, and my legs felt like they weighed a ton.

“I’m so happy you could come, Camille”, - his voice was soft and soothing as it was when I’ve heard him for the first time, years ago.

“To be honest, I wasn’t sure that I’d be here at all”, I replied dryly and ordered the cup of coffee as the waiter approached our table, “I’m still thinking about your question and I need to know the details before I’ll make the final decision”

He paused a little, probably astonished by my reply. His gaze quickly ran from my eyes to my hands, which were lighting a cigarette in my mouth.

“Of course, I understand you”, he said and moved closer to me

“Also, I still have the question: why did you write me? You could pick someone else, your colleagues, or another student from my class if you’re this kind of a picky person”, I exhaled the smoke of my cigarette”

Vincent laughed a little, when my heart started to beat faster once again.

“But you’re one of the most successful lawyers in Paris, right? And you’re free”

“Free in what way?”

“I heard you’ve just won the hearing. Congratulations, by the way, I’ve heard it was a tough one”

I smirked “Ah, that’s what’re you talking about. I got you, Vincent. And thanks, it was indeed very hard. Anyways, we’re here not to discuss my successful work, right? What’s the case that you’re working on?”

And Vincent began his story about the tangled and strange case on which he just started to work on, when all the details were still unknown and complicated.

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“What were you writing about?”, Vincent suddenly appeared behind my back when I just finished writing my essay about law in cinema.

He picked my paper, when I raised my glance at him looking unemotional.

“You told us to write about anything we like. Here’s my essay about law in cinematography”

“She’s François Truffaut of our class”, Jean-Louis, my classmate and future co-worker said out loud and some of students started to laugh. I just turned back and gave them the look, when Vincent looked at them, then back at me with cunning glance, and placed my papers back on the table.

“Well, at least I now know that with mademoiselle Cadieux I can talk about films and she has a very good taste in them”

I looked at my tutor once again, because I wasn’t sure if he was mocking me or talking seriously, but he wasn’t laughing at all. And in that exact moment I understood that it’d be a very unforgettable final year of my master studies.

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“It sounds tricky”, I played with a spoon in my empty cup of coffee, trying to place all the information about the case in order inside my head, “It honestly looks very bad, especially with the fact that your client isn’t French. The law for foreigners is way harder and with the accusations that she has, it looks lost in advance”

The café started to be filled with people who came to have their weekend brunch or just a cup of coffee, couples and friends were laughing. Me and Vincent were still sitting at the same table near the big window. The snow just stopped.

“I know, but I’m sure that this case can be won and that she’s innocent. Well, at least she looks like one.”, sighed Vincent, finishing smoking his cigarette, “And the whole process is taking place in a town near Alps, I just got from there to take all papers and documents that I needed with me, I’m heading there tonight. So, if you make up your mind, Camille, I’ll help with you with accommodation”

“Many thanks, Vince, but I’m not a little girl, I can sort these kinds of things by myself”, it was really irritating sometimes when he was treating me like a small girl, he was always like that, “I’m not sure neither about the case nor about your client, but I love taking risks, so, I’m up for it”, and before Vincent tried to say something else, I finished, “And let’s just make it straight, I’ll help you out and this will be only work-related talks, nothing more than that”

Vincent looked straight into my eyes as he was trying to read my thoughts which were screaming for my loneliness and how much I missed him but hated him at the same time.

“You didn’t change a bit, Camille. You were always a cold-hearted strong and mysterious woman from when I saw you for the first time”, he tried to hide his little smile, but I saw it, pretending that I didn’t and smoked the rest of my cigarette.

For other people I looked serious and cold-hearted, and I tried to convinced myself the same way, and it worked really well during my work. But no one knew that sometimes I cried in the night when I couldn’t keep my emotions inside me no more. No one knew about my weakness. Not even Vincent and he was one of my closest people who I used to know.

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corleonewrites · 4 months ago

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La Vérité

AU: Anatomy of a Fall (2023)

Vincent Renzi x Original Female Character fanfic.

Chapter 9 (Final). Suite Bergamasque, L. 75: Clair de Lune

______________________________________________________________

We talked through almost the whole night, while we were lying in bed. Firstly, it felt surreal: I forgot how it was like to lay on Vincent’s chest, when we used to spend nights together, years ago. Never knew that I’d felt the same thing again, after countless lonely nights.

The night seemed endless, we completely lost our time, talking quietly to each other, opening hearts and minds to each other without realizing how both of us fell asleep, when the winter’s sun began to slowly rise up behind the window.

______________________________________________________________

It was the last hearing of our case and surprisingly for myself I was calm as never before during the hearings of this case. Maybe it was because of the indications which Daniel, Sandra’s son, gave to the court, which could turn the whole thing in the different direction, but I was sure that it was not only because of it. The idea that Vincent and I finally sorted every confusion and misunderstanding out between us, giving the opportunity to start all over again, when all the mistakes were made and figured out.

My heart was beating fast when it was the time to hear the verdict. I looked at Vincent slightly, when I felt fingers of his hand slightly touching mine, only couple of centimeters were separating us. In that moment all my thoughts narrowed down into one small dot.

I don’t remember what I felt when we heard the acquittal verdict. It felt like it was real and surreal at the same time. But what I remember clearly how the relief covered my whole body and how strongly I was struggling to calm myself down and not to kiss Renzi deeply in his lips and put my hands inside his soft hair right in front of the whole court with judges and the jury.

______________________________________________________________

“I can’t believe that this whole thing is finally over. Can’t believe that tonight I’ll sleep calmly in my house, knowing that I’m innocent”

We were sitting in the café, celebrating the closed case. It was late at night, and almost all the visitors left the café, except for our small table which consisted of only three of us. This time it didn’t bother me at all, as Vincent’s was around my waist.

“All of us need a very good deep sleep. We deserved it”, Renzi replied, taking a sip from his bottle of beer.

“Agree”, I said, taking a look at the clocks on the wall: it was almost midnight.

“Are you planning to spend some time here in Grenoble?”, Sandra asked, looking at both of us.

“We, actually, got tickets to Paris, we’re leaving the day after tomorrow”, Vincent replied, when I added, placing my bottle of cider on the table:

“All I need now are two weeks off that’s for sure. My head was filled with all those details, I need to clear it off”

“I quite understand that”, Sandra smiled a little, and also looked at the clocks, “Oh, it’s getting too late, I should come home now”, she stood up, taking her bag.

We gave her a hug and said our goodbyes. It was so strange that it was all ending now, when we spent a lot of time together, during hearings. It felt like the part of me was also leaving me. My head was dizzy and I sat back on the chair. I didn’t see how Sandra left the room, when I heard Vincent’s voice:

“Are you okay, Camille?”

I opened my eyes slowly, looking at Renzi’s worried face, as he was holding both of my shoulders, being afraid that I’d fall from my set, but I felt myself well and secured. When he was near me.

“I’m fine, Vincent.”

“Tired?”

“Very.”

“It’s time to go back home”, he said softly, looking at me with that sweet calm look, as he did before. Now that look came back.

I just sighed and he placed his forehead on against mine and kissed it softly after some seconds. I quietly placed my head on his shoulder, when he placed his arm around my waist once again. It felt so calm and quiet. The stress left me and I finally felt myself secured. In that exact moment there were only two of us and no one else in the world. Ex-tutor and ex-student, two lawyers, two lovers and the tangled story that united us again. This time strongly and without turning back.

______________________________________________________________

Fin

______________________________________________________________

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corleonewrites · 6 months ago

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La Vérité

AU: Anatomy of a Fall (2023)

Vincent Renzi x Original Female Character fanfic.

Chapter 4. Gnossiennes: No. 1

______________________________________________________________

It never occurred to me before, but I got really suspicious about the woman whose case we were about to solve and present at the court. And only when I was preparing myself to leave the hotel room next morning to meet Vincent and our defendant, I gave a second thought to the way of how did Vincent describe her.

______________________________________________________________

“Who’re we going to represent in the court?”, I asked my ex-tutor when the waiter brought me my coffee.

“She’s a good friend of mine, actually, I’ve known her and her husband for a couple of years now”, Vincent replied, when surprisingly for myself I drew close attention to it. “Her name is Sandra Voyter, she is a writer”

I didn’t believe in a “good friend” between a man and a woman, despite the fact that I had a friend of mine from university years, but I knew that he liked me at some point.

“Ah, well, okay”, I shoved it off, taking a sip from my coffee. Vincent looked at me long enough and asked:

“What?”

I got confused:

“What “what”?”

“What’s the reaction of yours?”

“You never told me about her before”, I shoved it off again, feeling the jealousy rising up out of nowhere. Even though Renzi wasn’t mine it was tough to believe that he could have women friends or hang out with somebody else.

“Oh, but we didn’t talk much with her anyways so there was no need to tell you”, he put the ash from his cigarette in the ashtray.

I got furious, not only I wanted to win the case but to win his attention over everyone. I knew that it wasn’t right to think like that, and tried to put my concentration back to the case.

“Fair enough, monsieur Renzi”, I tried to reduced it from my head and asked the waiter to bring us new ashtray.

______________________________________________________________

Vincent’s red vintage Mercedes stopped near the big wooden house with a balcony facing picturesque view on mountains. A woman with short blonde hair was standing there, and when she recognized us – she disappeared, probably getting down to greet us.

I remembered Renzi’s car from university years, when he used to pick me up after classes or from my flat and we drove somewhere only we knew where.

We got out of the car and Vincent introduced me to the woman:

“This is Camille Cadieux, I already told you about her and her abilities in law and advocacy, she was one of the best in my class during her master studies. Camille, this is Sandra Voyter”

“Nice to meet you”, Sandra held out her hand, smiling. I didn’t like to look at people’s eyes when I was meeting them for the first time, which was a very bad habit of mine, so black sunglasses were protecting my sight this time, when I shook Sandra’s hand:

“Likewise” We got inside spacious house, greeted Sandra’s son and his guide dog Snoop and sat around kitchen table, just as soon as the kettle finished boiling.

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“One ticket to Indian Summer, please”

I loved going to cinema by myself, it gave me the opportunity to pay very close attention to the film and not to care whether my companion liked the film or not. I’ve seen Indian Summer before, but since there was Valerio Zurlini’s retrospective at cinema and this film was among the other works of this Italian director I couldn’t miss the opportunity to watch one of my favourite films on a big screen.

When the film finished, I was about to leave the cinema hall, when I recognized Vincent among the viewers, who was also on his way to leave the hall when he saw me.

“Salut, Camille”, he smiled, when I moved closer to him, continuing our way to the exit, “Did you love this film?”

“It’s one of my most favourite, and I’ve seen it couple of times before”, Renzi was a little surprised when he heard me, but I continued, “I’m a film addict, absolutely crazy about cinema”, but then I laughed, “These were the words of Jean-Luc Godard, but they describe me as well”

“I see”, my tutor laughed with me, “I love to go to cinema, and especially to see old films, good old classics, and this film put a big impression on me”

“Agree, I was blown away by it when I watched it for the first time”, I continued, when we were going down the stairs and exited the cinema, “But most of all I loved this melancholy and desperation which you can feel in this film, everything is screaming about it”

“Why did you love it?”, Vincent asked me, but I didn’t know if I wanted to answer this directly, I didn’t want to say that I felt the same way as almost all of the main characters in it: lonely, melancholy and in need to have someone beside me who would listen and understand. Not to let it out I answered:

“Everyone needs to have someone who’ll listen to them and everyone is afraid of loneliness, even though they won’t admit it firstly”

My tutor looked at me in silence, as if he sorted out my clue, and he probably did. I wanted to say something else, but on this exact moment the rain started, and I forgot to take an umbrella with me.

“I parked my car near the cinema, I can drove you home, that’s not a problem”, asked Vincent, when I put my hands over my head to cover it from the rain

“To be honest I wanted to go to the café and eat, you can join me, if it’s alright with you”, I said it and couldn’t believe myself, I had no idea what I was thinking. But since I honestly didn’t want to go home and wanted to know him better than just listening to his lectures and him criticizing my essay, I decided to give it a try.

“That’s okay with me, yes”, Vincent took car keys, “And since it’s the weekend we can discuss Indian Summer and all the other beautiful films in cinematography rather than your essay, which is, actually, one of the best that I’ve read”

“I’m flattered, monsieur Renzi”, I smiled, but inside myself I was screaming from joy, because I put a lot of effort on my degree essay and I was happy that he thought like this. And that’s how I got inside his car for the first time and we drove to the city center, when the rain intensified. ______________________________________________________________

“Well, what do you think?”

The sun was already done when we left Sandra’s house, heading to one of the bars in Grenoble, which was close to hotel where I was staying.

“We need to organize the expertise which will measure the angle of the fall and all the details which we haven’t seen”, I answered, checking my notes, “Also, we should find if there were some recordings of her conversations with everybody for the past time, especially with her late husband”

“You’re right, I thought about it, probably I have some convenient contacts left from my previous case, they can help us now”

“Good”, I didn’t even look at him, “Also, we must know who’ll be the victim’s lawyer, I know some people who can potentially be involved, and some of them are too smart, too perspicacious and too inquisitive, they can turn the case upside down if they want to.”

“We’ll need help and I have some people in mind who can help us with it”, my ex-tutor replied and stopped the car: we’ve reached our destination.

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In couple of days later, after the meeting at the cinema, when lectures were over, Vincent asked me if I wanted to visit Louvre, because during the discussion of my degree essay we somehow switched from the topic to discussion of law in art and I mentioned that Louvre had one of my favourite paintings: Death of the Virgin by Caravaggio was among them. My tutorial on essay was the last one of the studying day and monsieur Renzi asked if I wanted to visit Louvre that evening, as we had time. To be fair, I was surprised by his question, but agreed. When I got inside his car which was standing near the university, I saw Estella’s and Loise’s amazed gazes, but didn’t pay attention to them. Of course, they’d ask questions and of course I wouldn’t answer them neither their little annoying gossips.

And on exactly the same moment when I was standing in front of the painting Death of the Virgin by Caravaggio – I felt Vincent’s gaze at me behind my back. And my mind didn’t fool my senses about such things, this tension and curiosity was filling the area where we were standing. He moved slowly and closer to me, when my heart started to beat faster with every new second.

He stood near me, looking at me, but then his gaze fell on the painting and he said:

“Pure beauty and photographic depiction, and the sacral topic of it, that’s what makes this painting so beautiful and eye-catching”.

I couldn’t reply to him, it felt like I was frozen in one place and couldn’t move. I didn’t like this feeling at all and was surprised that I felt the curiosity growing inside me towards Vincent. Not only this. The worst was that I started to understand that I was falling for him and not in terms of tutor/student relationship at all, but in passion and admiration.

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“What’s the number of your room?”, Vincent asked me, when we were going up in the elevator at the hotel where I stayed. We just arrived from the bar, slightly drunk and out heads were dizzy. I didn't want him to walk me to my room, but Renzi was persistent. Years ago, I liked it, but now it drove me mad, but didn’t say no to him. I just knew where it could lead both of us if we decided to forget the past and release our faded attraction towards each other.

“Honestly, you’re unbearable sometimes”, I sighed and led him in the quiet corridor to my room, which was exactly in the middle of the corridor.

“I know this. And you know this, mademoiselle Cadieux and used to like it”, Renzi sighed and leaned on the wall, when I was trying to find keys of the room in my bag.

“But this time is over, monsieur Renzi and tomorrow we should be prepared to work”, I looked at him, “So now I’m going to bed to have the bits of sleep, and you should do this too”.

Vincent looked directly into my eyes without anything. After a couple of moments he just said quietly “Good night, Camille”. I took the last of my strength in my hands, looked away from him and turned the keys in the door lock, saying “Good night, Vincent”, without even looking at him. The door closed behind me and the darkness and silence of winter night surrounded me.

______________________________________________________________

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corleonewrites · 5 months ago

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La Vérité masterlist

AU: Anatomy of a Fall (2023)

Vincent Renzi x Original Female Character fanfic

Chapters

Chapter 1. Consolations, S. 172: No. 3 Lento placido

Chapter 2. Nocturne No. 8 In D Flat Major

Chapter 3. Suite Española No. 1, Op. 47: V. Asturias - Leyenda Arr. for String Orchestra

Chapter 4. Gnossiennes: No. 1

Chapter 5. Fantasie in F Minor, Op. 103: D. 940

Chapter 6. Symphony No. 3 in F Major, Op. 90 - III. Poco allegretto

Chapter 7. Concerto No. 4 in F minor (L’inverno/Winter) RV297 (Op. 8 No. 4): I. Allegro non molto

Chapter 8. Symphony No. 5 in C-Sharp Minor: IV. Adagietto. Sehr langsam

Chapter 9 (Final). Suite Bergamasque, L. 75: Clair de Lune

#fanfic #fic writing #fanfic writing #fanfiction #fic writer #film fanfiction #anatomy of a fall fanfic #anatomy of a fall fanfiction #anatomy of a fall fic #vincent renzi fanfiction #fanfic masterlist #masterlist #vincent renzi x ofc #vincent renzi x age gap #vincent renzi x original female character #vincent renzi x strangers to lovers #swann arlaud #swann arlaud fanfic

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corleonewrites · 7 months ago

Text

La Vérité

AU: Anatomy of a Fall (2023)

Vincent Renzi x Original Female Character fanfic.

Chapter 3. Suite Española No. 1, Op. 47: V. Asturias - Leyenda Arr. for String Orchestra

______________________________________________________________

Isaac Albéniz music was playing in my headphones and my thoughts were running fast with the speed of the train on my way to Grenoble, when I was re-reading all the notes which Vincent gave me two days ago, trying to concentrate on the future case.

“You were always a cold-hearted strong and mysterious woman from when I saw you for the first time”, this sentence from my ex-tutor didn’t leave my head, keep repeating itself over and over again with the same tone of voice that he had.

This was true. Even with my close friends I was closed off, didn't open my soul because I wanted to keep my secrets inside me, thinking that they won’t understand me and my insecurities. Only with Vincent, when we became closer, I opened my soul a little. Because he wasn’t like the other men who I used to know. Despite the fact that for him I was always a little girl, which was obvious, because he was older than me. Funny how among my peers I felt myself older than I was when with Vincent, I let myself feel like a teenager, when we were separated by an age interval of fifteen years.

I chuckled to myself and dug deeper into the notes of the case.

______________________________________________________________

“Do you have any idea what his age can be?”, Loise asked just if it was a completely regular question, when Vincent passed us by when Loise, Estella and I were standing near the university’s entrance the other day, after the lectures.

“Too old for you, for sure”, Estella laughed, “And definitely for all of us”

“How can you be so sure?”, Loise looked at her resentfully, and checked herself in a mirror, “For me he looks like he’s 30 and 50 at the same time”

“Because he’s got wrinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiles?”, Estella pointed out, when I finally looked at both of them, after I watched him go as he sat inside his car: red vintage Mercedes and drove away, “He’s 39, Simone from the administration told me so”

“Simone told you what?”, Jean-Louis reached us, placing his hand on Estella’s shoulder, and winking at me

“Girls talks, Jean-Louis, that’s not so interesting”, I looked at both Loise and Estella once again, “Anyways, I’m off home now”

“Oh, wait, what about today’s bar night? Camille, did you forget about it? We planned it for a whole week”, Estella asked me, when I, honestly, completely forgot about our plan to spend the evening at the bar where all the students and teachers from Université Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne loved to hang out after studying hours.

“I’ll be there at 9, don’t worry”, I had to lie that I remembered about the evening. Well, at least I thought that I’d clean my mind and relax from weekend of research for my diploma essay.

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The sun was getting down when the train stopped at its final destination in Grenoble. With my travel bag in one hand and with a bag full of documents on my shoulder, I caught a taxi and sped off towards a small hotel which would become my home for an indefinite amount of time which I was planning to spend during my work.

The door of the hotel room opened and I got inside a small, but cozy room with big bed, big table with a small bookcase and a painting The Boulevard Montmartre on a Winter Morning of Camille Pissarro on the wall. The view from the room’s window was breathtaking: huge mountains and white snow was covering the roads of the city, small ginger bread-like houses surrounded the area, it felt like I got inside winter fairytale.

Without even unpacking my luggage, I sighed and lay down on the bed, as I was completely tired and had sleepless nights as I was packing my luggage, preparing all the documents for the case when the unbearable desire to meet Vincent was overwhelming me at the same time. This anxiety left me with no sleep at all, so I was glad to finally have the opportunity to at least lay in bed and relax for some time.

I finally made my mind clear: it was the time to place dots on every i in relationships between me and my ex-tutor and my love affair; it was the right time to reduce all those romantic thoughts and hopes which I still had inside of me, which were trying to burst out, knowing how they were hurt before, but still believing in happy ending, despite the fact that the injury from this love affair that we had with Vincent didn’t cure at all.

______________________________________________________________

Surprisingly or not, but when I got inside the bar, I saw not only Loise, Estella and Jean-Louis, but also our new tutor Vincent Renzi, who looked directly at me but quickly moved his gaze away, when I tried to get to my friends’ table, only noticing that he was sitting alone behind the bar desk. My only thought was: was it a pure accident that he was at the same time in exactly the same bar, as it was a very popular place among students and teachers from Université Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne. I lowered my gaze, and reached the table, when Jean-Louis asked bartender for a round of cider for all of us.

At that time, I started to get angrier, because not only almost all the girls’ attention from my course was on Vincent. I got myself an idea that because of all this fuzz around him I would distract myself from the tutor, creating an appearance of indifference, maybe even disguise. But maybe it was because my interest in him was growing inside me, but I didn’t want to admit it in any case. And so, during that evening at the bar I decided to reduce all those crazy thoughts for some time and forget about him, even though he was at exactly the same place on exactly the same time.

Of course, Estella and Loise recognized him, but thankfully decided not to bother Vincent with their attention, and we continued talking about all sort of things, but particularly about our final exams and essays which we needed to write to graduate from university.

______________________________________________________________

Sometimes, during my childhood, I didn’t want to study at all, I was lazy, maths was my least favourite subject at school, when French and English were the most favourite. But before entering the university I finally realized what I wanted to do in my life, as, probably, it was written in my destiny, because I was always paying attention to my parents’ work as lawyers, everything fascinated me, despite the fact that I knew that sometimes it was very hard.

And so, during my university years I began to study as hard and as passionate as I could, paying close attention to every subject and every rule, I didn’t even have time to relax properly during weekends. At that time, I wasn’t thinking about boys, relationships, all this kind of things, because I wasn’t interested in it, studies were priority to me.

To clean my mind from all those studies I found myself in films: I fell in love with cinematography, I watched a lot of films, finding my favourite actors, directors and films, I even attended some lectures about cinematography. Unfortunately, not every person among my friends were so passionate about my hobby, so most of my time I was watching films by myself, writing small reviews about them in special document on my laptop. I was believing that someday I’d find the right person not only to talk to about cinematography but also to fall in love with.

Who knew at that time that this person would suddenly show up at Université Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne and it wouldn’t be a student.

______________________________________________________________

They are right when they say that for a drunken mind speaks sober heart. After two glasses of cider, slightly drunken, I left my friends for a couple of minutes to have a smoke outside the bar, to get my head some fresh air and almost bumped into Vincent, who was also smoking his cigarette in front of bar’s entrance.

“Oh, good evening, monsieur Renzi”, I said it with a little annoyance, because I absolutely did not want to run into him that evening. Or at that moment, I wanted it to seem that way to myself. Trying to light my cigarette, and realizing that my lighter had stopped working, I looked at Vincent again, realizing that after all, I would have to talk to him. Something clicked inside my head and I decided to play a game with him. Never knowing where it would lead both of us.

“You got a light? My lighter seems to be ran out”

“Of course”, he said calmly and got his lighter out of the pocket, opening it. I bent over the fire, placing my hand over his, trying to light my cigarette and feeling a pleasant wooden-like smell of his perfume.

I've always had a taste for fragrances, and I've always paid special attention to how a man smells, so, of course, Vincent was among the ones, whose smell of perfume I loved.

“And please, outside the university, I’m Vincent, not monsieur Renzi, we’re not at the lecture room”, he added, lightning his cigarette this time, when I took a puff from mine.

“Well, okay, Vincent, then I’m just Camille, without mademoiselle Cadieux outside the university”

“We got a deal”, he smiled and continued, “Well, Camille, why aren’t you hanging out with your friends who I saw at the bar?”

“Apart from taking a smoke? Honestly, I’m not that interested in hanging out with them. They’re all children”.

“Aren’t we all?”, he asked looking at me. And probably alcohol helped me to open my mind and heart more than it have been expected, so I replied, without paying attention to what I was saying, because at that time my mind was more opened:

“Maybe, but when it comes to my taste in men – I like being with someone who’s older than me”

There. I said it and the sentence disappeared into thin air of the night. Vincent just looked at me, this time even closer and more thoughtful and I felt like my heart just dropped. I probably crossed the line. But probably my heart started to act truly, without lies, as I began to notice that I wanted to get attention from monsieur Renzi, and not in the student-tutor common relationships. I’ve lost the game.

______________________________________________________________

The sound of the incoming message woke me up from my thoughts.

“Hello, Camille. Hope you got to Grenoble safely. I’ll be waiting for you in front of your hotel tomorrow at 10, we’ll get my car to drive to Sandra’s house. The trip won’t take long. I won’t bother you any longer, see you tomorrow”

I smirked and typed “Okay” and put my phone on the bed, getting up from my bed and reaching the window, pulling back the curtain to look at the opening view.

The game just started again and this time I wanted to take revenge.

______________________________________________________________

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corleonewrites · 5 months ago

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La Vérité

AU: Anatomy of a Fall (2023)

Vincent Renzi x Original Female Character fanfic.

Chapter 7. Concerto No. 4 in F minor (L’inverno/Winter) RV297 (Op. 8 No. 4): I. Allegro non molto

______________________________________________________________

It was one of those terrible and dreadful hearings after which we needed to get drunk. For that case Sandra invited us to her house, and even though I felt bad after the hearing and I didn’t want to go, but I had a feeling that if I didn’t go – I’d miss something important. Little did I know that I was terribly correct.

The night was still ahead, it felt like it was on a pause, or slowed down dreadfully, when all three of us got pretty drunk, and it was the time to let more personal talks to enter the space. I didn’t talk much, only looked at how did Vincent and Sandra told jokes, laughing like crazy.

I honestly felt myself the third extra in this strange triangle of emotions and feelings and in one moment I got inside the house, I theatrically passed right in the middle between them when they were talking to each other, finding my way to the kitchen for another bottle of beer. I was mad at myself, mad at my thoughts about Vincent and my jealousy towards Sandra in the way of how she talked to Renzi, as they were very close to each other when both me and Vincent had a lot more in common, not to mention that we were a couple.

On my way back outside, I saw something that at first, I thought was the play of my drunken imagination, but it was painful true: Sandra and Vincent were laying in the snow, kissing. In exactly the same moment I felt cold sweat on my back, like someone poured iced-cold water on my head, my hands dropped the bottle of beer, which fell on the carpet. I staggered back and quickly turned my back on them, rushing to the bathroom. My thoughts were screaming inside me, it felt like they were echoing inside the quiet empty house. I closed the door behind me and let my tears burst out. I knew Sandra and Vincent couldn’t hear me.

______________________________________________________________

“I think it’s not right, Sandra”, whispered Vincent, when Sandra opened her eyes after the kiss that she gave him. He looked at her confused eyes and continued, talking seriously, “I didn’t tell this to you before, but I feel a deep affection towards Camille”

Both of them sat on the snow. Snowflakes were slowly falling down on them. There was no wind, the night was extremely quiet, it felt like all the sounds died.

“Oh, I didn’t know about that”, Sandra said confusedly, “Did you have something between each other?”

“We began an affair when I was a tutor and Camille was my student, she was receiving her master’s degree.”, he made a pause, looking at Sandra and catching his breath, “Of course, I thought that it wouldn’t lead to anything more than that. But I was wrong. And I realized it just few weeks ago, when I saw her again, after all those years.”

Sandra looked at Vincent, sighed, and looked at the mountains, which seemed blue because of the snow which was lighting up from moon’s light.

“I see. Sorry if I confused you…”

“Don’t feel sorry, I understand.”, Vincent laughed sadly, “I confused myself and Camille, I treated what was between us stupidly and irresponsible…”, he paused and looked back at the house. He felt the sudden fear, not knowing where did Camille go, as she left long before his conversation with Sandra. What if she saw their kiss? Did she leave? How will she arrive back to the hotel? Is it too late to reach her by his car?

“Where’s Camille?”, he asked Sandra, she heard a fear in his voice

“She’s inside, probably in the kitchen or in the bathroom”

“We must find her”, Vincent stood up and rushed inside the house, he heard his heart started to beat faster.

______________________________________________________________

“Camille? Where are you?”, I heard Vincent’s voice downstairs and put a hand on my mouth, fearing that he could hear me crying.

I didn’t answer. I wanted him to be scared that I left, I wanted him to rush after me, but I knew that he wouldn’t do that as he had more important and fine business to do with Sandra. How pathetic it was for me to actually feel something for him, how pathetic was to believe that we could actually be together and work something out. We were not in romantic drama; it was real life and it can hurt.

“Camille?”, he screamed my name, and I clenched my fist, clutching it to my chest, fearing that I’d start to cry again, washed my face with ice water from the sink to recover, looked at myself in the mirror and opened the bathroom door, leaving tears behind. Only silent anger remained inside me.

______________________________________________________________

Of course, it was painful and hard for me to be back to the university after Easter holiday, but I took all my strength in my hands and dedicated couple of weeks before final assessment only to my essay. Luckily, we had only three sessions with tutor and now my ex-lover Vincent, during which I avoided looking at him, only concentrating on my writing and rushing home right after tutorials, without even saying goodbye to him.

I didn’t want to talk to him anymore, I didn’t want to see him anymore and after graduation I promised myself never meet him again or never accept the invitation to work with him even though it sounded unreal. He possibly couldn’t ask me for that. How funny things turned out in a couple of years after my promise.

______________________________________________________________

Next evening after the kiss, right before one of the last hearings I heard a knock on my hotel room.

“Camille, we need to talk”, Vincent was standing near the door and I rolled my eyes, but, opened the door, letting him inside.

“I know exactly about what we can talk with you, monsieur Renzi”, I replied dryly, placing my hands around my waist and looking directly at him, “So let’s the hearing start, then”

Vincent moved closer to me, dropping his bag on the sofa. I angrily moved back

“Let’s be reasonable, Camille”, Vincent began, but I interrupted him.

“Reasonable? What are you talking about, I’m always reasonable. And you, actually, not.”, I walked to the window, and looked for a second on the evening street, “I’m not the one who’s mixing personal feelings and work, especially with the one who’s the suspect and the prosecutor.”

Vincent looked at me astonishingly. He realized that I saw him and Sandra last night. He wanted to reach me, but I moved back and stood near the sofa.

“That’s not what you are thinking…”

“Did I dream it?”, my voice began to grow louder, my heart started to beat faster, “Yes, we drank last night, but I saw you together clearly. Of course, it’s your choice, I don’t blame you for this, but I don’t want to talk about it neither with you, nor with Sandra.”

I felt the anger growing inside me and since I was still on the edge after the previous night and anxious about the hearing the next morning, I looked at Renzi, and said with a broken voice:

“Now would kindly leave my room? The hearing is over, it is not a subject to dispute about”

“Camille, stop”, he caught my hand, I felt his hand for the first time in years and it felt so familiar and so forgotten, that for a brief second, I wanted to fell into his arms, but then I shoved his hand off and turned my back on him

“The hearing is over, monsieur Renzi!”

He was quiet for a second, but then he finally whispered, he sounded on edge as well

“Fine, mademoiselle Cadieux”

I closed my eyes and heard how the door closed loudly behind him, when I continued standing frozen in the middle of my hotel room.

______________________________________________________________

La Vérité masterlist

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bethecliche · 8 months ago

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family dinner l vincent renzi x f!original character

summary: your kids don't want to eat your food and vincent comes to the rescue word count: 2.6k content: female reader, no mention of skin color, hair or apparence, no use of y/n, maternity, food, kids being kids note: a short and quickly made story to thank you all for "my love mine all mine" good reception! omg 100 notes what a honor!!! from now on, word count will only increase :')

The table was set, but there were still two things left for dinner to be complete, one of which was Brigitte's food choice.

“My sweetie pie, would you rather have carrot or potato?” She asked the beautiful baby girl on her lap, pointing to the two options inside the kitchen cabinet. The baby, who had her head resting on her mother's shoulder, quickly stood up with interest in the bright colors inside the cabinet and was ready to stretch her hand to try to pull something out.

“It's too heavy for you, Brie. If you try to pick it up, you’ll drop it on the floor and make a mess for mommy to clean.” The mother warned, kinda hoping that her daughter would understand and stop reaching out to grab everything she saw in front of her, which didn't happen. Brigitte was in a pointing at everything phase and loved to knock things out, specially the ones that break.

With her eyes shining, the baby now bounced in her arms, excited as she recognized the jars in front of her as her baby food.

“Gu.” She tried to say, still pointing forward at the cabinet, but now looking at her mother, hoping she would understand what she was saying.

And she understood, just as she understood all of her daughter's almost words. “That’s it, my love. Food!" The older one repeated correctly so that Brigitte could repeat and learn. “Say it again: food. Fooood.”

But the baby was not interested in learning to talk, she was hungry and continued to push her weight towards the closet. Not wanting to take more long with it, her mother gave up and decided that Brie chose the potato flavor since that was the direction she pointed to. She placed the baby in her high chair and started to feed her.

Not long after the third spoonful, her restlessness began again and her pointing habit returned. She was completely uninterested in the spoon in front of her face and kept pointing to her brother's plate at the other side of the table.

“You can’t eat that, it’s your brother’s. Babies like you drink milk and eat baby food.” Mom said, pushing the spoon closer to her face.

But Brie wasn't caring about her food anymore. She was hungry but for the only thing she couldn’t eat: her brother’s food.

“You wanted it two minutes ago! How can you change so quickly?” Said her mom trying to laugh at the situation. The baby just kept trying to leave the high chair to crawl the table while the mom kept putting her down. “Can’t you eat at least two more spoons? For me?”

She tried to bargain, however Brie didn’t care.

“Baaaa.” Babbled the baby, in her way of saying “brother” and showing again her desire to whatever he was eating. But luckily for Brie, at that moment her mother noticed her son and how he was not eating too.

Little Vincent's plate was also full, even though she had put it down more than 10 minutes ago, right before looking for Brie’s food at the cabinet. The little boy was always the first to finish, looking forward to the rule that he could only eat dessert after cleaning his plate. Now, even with a pudding (something he loves) waiting to be devoured, he didn't want to eat the main plate.

“Vinnie, your food it’s getting cold.” She pointed out, turning towards her son to also give him attention. “Is there something wrong?”

“I do not like this.” The 4 year old said in a soft voice, almost embarrassed to speak out loud and upset his mother.

The woman, not understanding, insisted. “It’s made from cheese. You like cheese!"

“But I don’t like this one.” He pushed the plate away lightly and placed his little elbows on the table, frustrated, probably understanding that he won’t be able to eat pudding today.

“But I've never made soufflé before and you didn't touch the food. How do you know you don’t like it?”

“It looks ugly so I don’t like it.” He said pouting.

“Baby, it doesn’t look ugly!” She gave an uncomfortable laugh, not wanting to belittle her own creation, but she understood that it was paler and smaller than it really should be. “At least not that ugly.”

The front door opened before she could say something and the second thing missing from dinner appeared. Vincent entered quickly, leaving his coat and briefcase on a table next to the front door. He looked very tired and sweaty, but he kept a smile on his face for his family.

“Hello, reasons for my happiness.” That was the first thing he said as he approached the dinner table. He squeezed Brie's cheeks, gaining a smile with her little baby teeth from her and her arms thrown in his direction, asking to be picked up, which he couldn't resist to say no.

“Daddy!” Said little Vinnie, leaving the table and his sad face to hug his father's leg.

“Hey, champ.” With his free arm, Vincent got his son up too, kissing his forehead and shaking him a bit to get some giggles, putting him down again. Now for his wife, he gave her a quick kiss on the lips (gaining a “bleh” sound from their son) and sat down in front of her.

“Sorry for being late for dinner. You won’t believe the case that came to me today. I had to drive to meet a friend and… Well, I won’t talk about the details in front of the kids.”

She gave him a weak but happy smile, looking a little tired but trying not to dampen the mood. “It’s okay. We kinda just started.”

She started to put her food down on her plate, since Vincent arrived and could help her with the kids.

Already noticing there was something wrong, he continued on to a subject that might please her. “What did you do for dinner today, babe?” Even with everything on the table, he asked his wife to answer, as she loved talking about her attempts in the kitchen.

Most of the days, Vincent was the one cooking at home and she only made the most basic parts or simplest foods. Her husband has always been a handyman in the kitchen and prepared one thing tastier than another. Often, he would make some preparations on the weekend so that they could eat for the rest of the week, but as his work schedule was busy that month, his wife tried to cook something new to make his life easier.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t known for her cooking skills and that’s why Vincent took care of that part.

But after becoming a mom, she decided she wanted to cook more for her children and today’s experience was not the best.

“Soufflé au fromage. My mom called today and we talked about things I liked when I was a kid and after finding out what soufflé was, I wanted to eat it everyday, all the time. So I decided to make one for us.” Said sitting on the table again.

“Aw, that’s really sweet of you, babe. I didn’t know that.” He stretched forward to hold his wife’s hand, giving it a little squeeze. “But why do I feel there’s something wrong?”

She sighed, throwing herself back and pretending to melt on her seat. “Your kids.”

“What did my little rascals do? ‘Cause they’re only mine if they’re bad behaving.” Vincent said with a teasing smile, managing to get a grin from her too.

No matter how frustrated she could get in any type of situation, Vincent never needed to say or do much to make her forget her problems. His jokes or reassuring words always made her believe she could get out of any bad mood. That’s kind of his thing.

“I’m starting to believe they are plotting against me.”

“No, they would never plot against you without inviting me.” He jokingly said, giving her hand another squeeze and smiling at her. “Let’s start with this cute baby here. What’s the problem?”

“She forgot her teeths are still little and wants to eat the soufflé she can’t have.”

Vincent started to shake his leg up and down to bounce the baby, who began to giggle happily.

“That’s always a thing with her, huh? But that’s the secret. She always wants something she can’t have.” He proceeded to reach for the baby food in her seat and put it in front of them on the table. He filled the spoon the most he could and pretended to eat, opening his mouth and passing the spoon right next to his cheek. “So good. Let me get more.”

It didn't take long for this to attract the little girl's attention and she began to pull her father's arm, interested in what he was doing.

One spoonful after another, Brie was completely interested in finishing her meal and Vincent placed her back in her baby seat to move on to the other question.

“You make it seem so easy.” Said his wife in disbelief, still shocked with his efficiency to solve the problem.

“You deal with worse situations than this all day. That’s nothing.”

With their one year old in diapers and their four year old potty training, he could only imagine how her day went being a stay home mom.

At this point, Vincent got up from his chair and went in direction to his son, picking him up from his seat and showering him with kisses. “What about this young gentleman here? Huh?”

“I’m innocent.” Said Vinnie making one of his cutest faces to appeal to his father, who just laughed along.

“That’s something a bad guy would say.” Replied the lawyer.

Brie was a very predictable girl. She is curious, likes to investigate the house and poke at everything in front of her, so assuming that she would want something "forbidden" was easy. Vinnie was a different story. When he puts his foot down, he won't change for anything. He also knows his parents are light hearted and usually goes along with his wishes.

“He also refuses to eat.”

“But I don’t like it!” Vinnie stated with a sullen face.

“Have you tried?” Vincent asked his son, to which Vinnie replied shaking his head no. “Then you don’t know what you’re missing! Soufflés are actually very good, especially the type your mom made. You’ll never know if you don’t try it.”

“Then I’ll never know.” The little boy shrugged.

Mrs. Renzi couldn’t resist but burst into a laugh, not believing what the 4 year old was saying. “He got your sharp tone.” Said pointing to Vincent, who provoked her by sticking out his tongue.

Vincent took the spoon and tried to feed the kid too, earning grunts and "no's" from him. “You’re growing and you need to eat to be big and strong! Just like your dad.”

“Can’t I just eat beef? I like beef. I don’t want to like anything else.”

This case was lost and the only thing he could do was accept it. Vincent looked at his wife, who just shrugged, satisfied that at least they got 1-2.

“It’s okay, we won’t insist anymore. But mommy worked hard to prepare this meal, be grateful for her efforts.”

Vincent released the child, who ran towards his mother and apologized for his behavior, promising he wouldn't do it again. “Sorry again, mommy.”

“It’s okay, my baby. I’m not mad.”

She made a move to get up, with the idea that she would make the steak for her son, but Vincent put her down, kissing her forehead and assuring her that he would take care of it.

“Let me do it. You need to relax a bit. Finish your food.”

Once again, she picked up her fork and now could finally eat.

After the difficult dinner, the Renzi family sat in the living room to finally enjoy dessert. Lucky for them, the pudding had come straight from the market and the woman had no involvement in its preparation.

For family time, they watched Frédéric Anton scolding the Masterchef chefs for their mistakes. A very educational program for them.

“It was terrible, wasn’t it?” She asked Vincent as soon as he sat down, kinda already knowing the answer. Vincent took a little more to eat since he had to prepare a different dish for his son and at that point, his wife was already cleaning Brie in the bathroom, so she couldn’t see his face eating the food first hand.

He wrapped his arm around his wife, shaking his head. “It’s not terrible. I would never use that world.”

“Then you love it?”

“Love, love…” He looked away with a small smile on his face, a little unsure of what to say. “Love I only have for you.”

Rubbing herself a little closer to Vincent's embrace, she felt the response was enough. “Good answer. I’ll let it slide.”

The two were finally having a moment together (with Brie off to the side drinking a milk bottle and Vinnie distracted by the television and the pudding, sitting on the floor). Vincent kissed her cheek and then her mouth, hugging her body against his and finally enjoying the warmth of her body. She also couldn't resist his touch and her body was completely relaxed, feeling light and untroubled to be next to him.

But they had children, so it couldn’t last long, of course.

“Mommy, I want to eat that.” Vinnie pointed to the television that was showing this week’s challenge, which was a carbonara dish made from scratch. He jumped up and down, excited “Mommy, can we eat this pasta tomorrow? Please, please, please!”

“I bet your dad knows how to do it.” She replied to take away her responsibility for this work. “How about asking daddy to prepare it? Tomorrow is his day off, he will have time to cook this for us.”

“We can prepare together, like the chefs on television. Look!” He pointed once again to the TV and ran to the sofa, jumping between his parents. “It'll be fine, won't it? If we do it together…”

It was his way to say again that he was sorry for not liking her food and how he had hope for her cooking skills. She felt relieved and really loved, with Vincent by her side also giving her support. There was no plot against her, after all.

“Sorry again, mommy. I like your food sometimes.”

“I can sleep with that.” Said jokingly. “Okay, we’ll do it.”

Little Vincent offered her a well accepted hug, followed by big Vincent joining too. She already anticipated that it would not go right on her part and carbonara would turn into carburnara, but to have her children and husband next to her, believing she could do it, she felt like she could make a thousand mistakes, ‘cause they would still be there waiting for another try.

“I can't wait to try this dish.” Vincent said out loud.

“No, daddy. I said I want to eat so it's just for me. You’ll only help because you’re an adult. Stated the young boy.

“You won’t give me even a small, small piece?” Vincent asked, pretending disbelief.

“No!” Vinnie said laughing and running across the sofa to get to Brigitte, now on his mother's lap. “Maybe I'll share it with Brie because she's cute. But only with her.”

Vincent, offended by his son's selfishness, started tickling him and his wife took the opportunity to tickle Brie too, leaving the room filled with laughter.

Food really brought people together. Especially the Renzi family.

#swann arlaud #vincent renzi #anatomy of a fall #fluff #vincent renzi x original character #vincent renzi fanfiction

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corleonewrites · 7 months ago

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masterlists

La Vérité (AU: Anatomy of a Fall (2023), Vincent Renzi x Original Female Character fanfic)

Non ducor, duco (AU: Game of Thrones (2011–2019) main pairing: Edmure Tully x Original Female Character fanfic. additional pairing: Jaime Lannister x Original Female Character fanfic) POSTPONED

Wandering winds (AU: The Terror (2018), James Fitzjames x Original Female Character fanfic) in the process of writing

#masterlist #fanfic masterlist #fic writing #fanfic #fanfic writer #fic writer #writers on tumblr #anatomy of a fall fanfiction #anatomy of a fall fanfic #anatomy of a fall fic #game of thrones fic #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #the terror fanfic #the terror fanfiction #the terror fic

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rxqueenotd · 8 months ago

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The Verdict- Chapter Nine

Pairing: Vincent Renzi x OFC

Warnings: familial trauma, abortion, medical procedures, medical terminology, discussions of birth control, protesting.

A/N: this chapter is extremely dark and heavy. if you have any trauma regarding abortion or subjects tied to it, please message me and i will give you a TLDR. i swore i would never, ever write anything like this but you guys asked for drama, and now you’re getting it. Also huge shoutout to @melancholicmelanin for being my beta. My elite employee.

Grumbling quietly in the back of the Uber, Leah, with all the politeness she could muster, requested the driver to keep driving. She recognized the neighborhood's landmarks, recalling specific apartments and details from her recent walks with Vincent to and from her current destination. The driver, growing increasingly impatient with Leah's distracted directions, muttered frustrations in French, navigating the streets aimlessly as Leah anxiously scanned her surroundings, hoping for a familiar sight.

"Stop!" Leah's sudden command made the driver slam on the brakes.

Quickly exiting the vehicle, Leah made sure to proceed towards her due diligence of tipping the poor man. Tapping away at her phone in a hurry, she overpaid the driver before giving a forced smile through gritted teeth.

"Thank you," she called out while crossing the street, "Uh, merci!"

Spotting a familiar figure smoking on the terrace above, beckoning her like an old friend, Leah hastened towards the door. Joan, draped in a silk robe, welcomed her inside with an understanding gaze.

"I had nowhere else to go," Leah confessed.

"Come inside," Joan ushered Leah through the foyer and into a cozy sitting room that Leah hadn't noticed during the party.

"What happened?" Joan asked, her concern evident. "Is Vincent okay? Are you okay?"

She sat down, gesturing for Leah to take a seat.

"Yeah," Leah shook her head, "No, I don't know?"

She sighed, "I, uh, left the restaurant in a rush after I saw, uh, well, Vincent and Sandra clearly having a moment. I left my bag with all its contents, and I didn't have anywhere else to go," she explained. "I'm sorry for ambushing you."

“A moment?,” Joan questioned, “What do you mean?”

Leah sighed heavily again. “He was holding her and caressing her,” Leah, visibly upset, said while wringing her hands, “And she touched his face, caressing his cheeks, and they just stared at one another.”

Leah’s voice cracked as she continued, “And I know that type of look,” Leah stopped long enough to wipe her tear stained cheeks, “I’ve been on the receiving end of that look.”

"I feared this would happen," Joan paused to grab a cigarette from the case on the coffee table and lit it. "History repeating itself."

Leah shrugged and sank back into the couch. "What the hell am I supposed to do?"

Joan nonchalantly flicked her ashes into a chic ashtray on the side table. "Do you want some tea?"

Confused by the sudden change of topic, Leah nodded.

"How do you take it?" Joan inquired.

Leah chuckled wryly. "I never drank tea until I came here, so however Vincent makes it is how I've been taking it."

“Black tea with honey and milk, I think?” Leah suggested, “That’s how he taught me.”

_______________________________________

An hour passed as Leah and Joan delved into discussions about what Leah should have done, could have done, and would do.

"You kept Vincent from his father, and yet, you're telling me that I should be honest with Vincent, disregarding everything I saw back at the restaurant," Leah sighed, closing her eyes. "Are you telling me to be honest with him because you have an emotional stake in this or because you think it's the right thing to do?"

"Vincent's father was a pickpocket by trade and a drunk by hobby," Joan explained. "I was twenty when I had Vincent, and I went back to Ireland to tell him about Vincent a year or so later, only to find out he'd knocked up the bartender at the local bar." Joan continued, "For months, we robbed, partied, and lived off Guinness until we were finally caught. I was arrested, deported, and found to be pregnant at the very last minute."

Joan lit a cigarette and pointed a finger at Leah. "So don't draw comparisons from me."

"But it's hard not to when you're telling me all these things," Leah said. "The only difference is I'm thirty-two, Vincent is forty-two, and I live on an entirely different continent," Leah stated, continuing, "We're old enough and established enough to have a child, but that doesn't necessarily mean we should."

"It's your right to choose," Joan said, “Even Vincent will tell you that.”

Joan lit another cigarette and pointed at Leah. "It's not my place to tell him about the child, nor is it my burden to bear," she continued. "But keep in mind that he is not some fly-by-night, piece of shit who's going to move on and pick up the pieces when you fly out of here." She ashed the cigarette, and Leah made a mental note that this is where Vincent must have inherited his chain-smoking gene. "He is going to be right where you left him, loving you all the same."

"See, the thing is," Joan inhaled sharply. "Sandra never loved Vincent back," she explained. "Maybe platonically, sure, but he fell hard, and I think he is now seeing what he lost but also what he has gained. You love him back. That’s the difference."

Leah shook her head, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. "But is that enough?"

Joan smiled sadly at her. "Is anything ever enough, lovely Leah?"

_________________________________________

For an hour, Vincent walked around Paris with an overpriced Prada bag in his grip. Leah had felt guilty the day she bought it, telling him about the people starving and the wars being fought around them. She expressed how selfish and materialistic she felt, but she didn't plan on being the richest person in the cemetery when she died. She intended to spend what she could while she still had a pulse. Vincent liked the way she rationalized the purchase and stood happily behind her with his hands clasped behind his back as the attendant took her on a guided trip through the store.

On this particular night, Vincent longed for the simplicity of those first few weeks they'd spent together. As he searched the streets of Paris as if she might jump out and surprise him around any corner, like the entire thing was one big joke, he wished he had never met her. Quickly banishing that thought from his mind, he realized it was a blatant lie. Convinced she had moved on in New York City, perhaps with the old flame she had mentioned weeks ago in a wine-fueled confession during one of their many midnight chats, he wondered why he continued to want her the way he did.

Then, as his phone vibrated and he squinted to read the brightened screen, a text from his mother read, "She's with me. Go home."

“Why is she there?” He texted back, walking aimlessly in the direction he had been going.

His phone vibrated again and he quickly opened the chat, “Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”

Vincent scoffed, forever humbled by his mother, and headed in the direction of her apartment.

_________________________________________

"Vincent, don't come in here to start an argument," his mother warned as she opened the door and gestured for him to enter. "And wipe that smirk off your face."

He complied silently, knowing well that his mother was not one to be swayed in an argument.

She closed the door behind him, tightening her robe around her before pointing a finger at his chest. "Do not wake her up."

He took a step back, raising his eyebrows. "She's at my mother's house."

Joan nodded firmly. "My house, my rules." With that, she turned and walked away, throwing a final warning over her shoulder. "You better not wake me or Tim."

He chuckled to himself, shaking his head in disbelief as his mother disappeared from view.

Taking a deep breath, he navigated through the dimly lit apartment, finally reaching the sitting room where Leah lay curled up on the couch. He let her bag slip out of his grip, the sound of it hitting the floor breaking the silence. Leah jolted awake, gasping, her eyes darting around the room in a panic as she struggled to orient herself.

"I thought I was supposed to be the one mad here," she remarked, sitting up and pulling a throw blanket around her shoulders.

"You chose to come here?" He inquired, a mix of confusion and frustration in his voice. "Why?"

Leah shrugged, a hint of defiance in her demeanor as she shook her head. "Where else was I supposed to go?" she retorted, her tone sharp.

"Leah, you should have gone home," He ran a flustered hand through his hair, turning to face her. "You shouldn't have run away from me," he chastised.

"Home is over three thousand miles away, Vincent," she retorted sharply. "What did you expect me to do?" Her voice cracked with emotion. "Stay and watch that? Put yourself in my shoes for once."

He shook his head, starting to pace. "What you witnessed was two people closing a chapter and moving on."

She scoffed, her tone laced with sarcasm. "Sure, call it that," she said, rolling her eyes as she locked eyes with him. "Maybe next week I'll walk into your apartment and find you fucking her, and we can label it as 'grief therapy.'"

He let out a heavy sigh, his gaze shifting to the ceiling. "What happened to you in New York?" He inquired once more.

She abruptly rose from the couch, pulling the throw tighter around her shoulders.

"I finally came to my senses," she declared, her eyes fixed on the Parisian street beyond the sliding glass door.

"Do you mind sharing, because I can't read your mind?" he asked, moving to stand beside her, both looking out onto the same street.

Leah met his gaze, tears welling up in her eyes. "That you're in love with her," she confessed, her voice trembling. "And I'm in love with you." Wiping away the tears hastily, she continued, "I came here to explore international law, to step out of my comfort zone, but I can't even tell you a single thing about French law because all I've been is a puppet on a string. I've played second fiddle to the ice queen of the Alps because you're so deeply in love with her, Vincent." A sob escaped her, and she quickly muffled it, torn between shame and fear of waking Vincent's mother.

"I don't even know you," she shook her head, a sense of resignation washing over her. "This should never have gone this far," she admitted, closing her eyes. "And I don't share. I refuse to play second fiddle to anyone," she declared.

Vincent chuckled incredulously. "There it is, that American brashness, always rearing its head when things don't go your way."

She let out a sarcastic laugh. "It seems to be a recurring theme, doesn't it? You never miss a chance to remind me of my Americanness." She tilted her head and met his gaze. "You'll eventually scold me for not learning French, one of us will jump out of a window, and history will repeat itself."

"What are you even talking about?" Vincent's face registered bewilderment as he spoke softly, mindful not to disturb his sleeping mother. "Have you thought this through? What's gotten into you?" he inquired.

"It's hard not to dwell on it after what I heard during the case," she sniffled, her voice tinged with distress. "That USB file is haunting me in the most unsettling ways."

"I may be many things," he reached out to touch Leah's shoulder, gently turning her to face him, "But I am not Samuel, and you are not Sandra," he reassured her. "You could speak an alien language, and I would still be in love with you just the same."

She nodded, resting her heavy head in the space between Vincent's shoulder and neck, surrendering, if only for one night.

_________________________________________

Leah had made up her mind before she had actually made up her mind. It was a familiar pattern, reminiscent of her second year of law school when she found herself with two different guys, rotating between them over a span of six months. She walked quietly into the Joan Malin Health Center, the same place that had been the center of protests the week before, causing chaos in the already bustling streets of Brooklyn. With Kate beside her, she completed the necessary paperwork, underwent an exam and ultrasound that they both averted their gazes from, and with a swift IV placement, she drifted off into unconsciousness. Sometime later, she awoke in a sterile, brightly lit room with Kate faithfully by her side. On the way home, Kate grabbed some pizza for both of them, a decision they both wholeheartedly agreed was the best choice, including the one Leah had made earlier in the day. Maybe it had been more emotionally charged that day, Leah couldn’t recall in the moment. Had it been that easy? Had she not felt anything?

It had been about eight years since that day, Leah estimated, as the Uber dropped her off in the sixth arrondissement, her former residence before moving in with Vincent. She pondered whether she would have even made the trip to Paris if she had become a mother back then. Would she have pursued a career in law? Pushing aside these thoughts, she relied on Google Maps to navigate the streets, drawing closer to the address provided by an associate of Le Planning Familial. The associate had promptly responded to her email late at night, providing her with a list of names and locations, allowing her the autonomy to choose where she wished to seek treatment.

Upon her arrival, she took a deep breath before entering the multilevel practice. After riding the elevator to the correct floor, she promptly checked in, grateful that the receptionist spoke English. She didn't want any additional challenges that morning, so she chose a seat far away from the other women waiting to be seen.

It seemed like hours had passed before her name was called, and she was ushered into what appeared to be a doctor's office. They meticulously reviewed her medical history, discussed the procedure, and outlined the pre- and post-procedure protocols. He recommended contraceptive devices to her, to which Leah declined for obvious reasons, not thinking of any sort of future outside of this building, this room. Adoption, she explained, wasn’t even an option to put on the table. Dr. Shah, as he introduced himself, noticed Leah's nervousness as he sighed and leaned on both elbows, studying her.

"It's not too late to change your mind," he offered sympathetically.

"It's not that," Leah shook her head. "I'm just trying not to vomit all over your desk." She placed her shaking hands under her thighs.

“Here,” he stood up and guided Leah out into the hallway, leading her to an exam room down the hall. Opening the door and flicking on the lights, Leah blinked a few times at their harshness.

“Get on the table and make yourself comfortable,” he requested.

Feeling cautious, Leah followed his instructions and settled onto the table, accepting the blanket he offered her.

As he exited the room, Leah took a moment to observe her surroundings. She glanced out the window, taking in the view of the city, and noticed the various pieces of art adorning the walls. Among them, she spotted delicate peonies painted to blend in with the earth-toned decor. If they were placed there for relaxation purposes, they most definitely were not working in Leah’s favor.

Leah picked up her phone and quickly FaceTimed Kate, whose blurred face came into focus after a few rings.

"Was I normal the day I had my abortion?" Leah asked without preamble.

"Leah," Kate began, looking around, "No warning at all?"

Looking past Leah, she asked, "Where are you?"

Leah sighed, "I'm at a clinic in France."

Leah watched as she walked into her office, sighing heavily as Kate sat at her desk, her numerous accolades and photos scattered on the shelves behind her. "What the fuck? I told you to come home, and we would take care of it."

"Was I normal that day?" Leah asked again.

"No," Kate shook her head. "You were shaking like a leaf the entire time, throwing up multiple times, and could barely sit still in that dirty waiting room."

"And those protesters," Kate rolled her eyes, "Their pamphlets were everywhere in the lobby."

Leah let out a shaky breath. "Why don't I remember any of that?"

"Because memory is tricky," Kate offered. "Come home, sissy cat, and we will take care of this."

A nurse knocked on the door and entered the room, carrying materials and a tablet. Leah motioned for Kate to wait, placing the phone beside her. The nurse offered Leah a kind smile, urging her to sit up as she tied a tourniquet around her arm. Nervously, Leah pulled back. "I'm not ready for the procedure, and I don't want general anesthesia. I have no one that can be here with me to take me home.”

"Not yet," the nurse comforted her. "I'm just going to start an IV filled with saline, give you some nausea medication, and medication for anxiety."

"I'll take it all," Leah relaxed and allowed the nurse to do her job. Within minutes, she felt calmer, a little lighter than she had in weeks. Following the nurse's instructions to undress from the waist down, a challenging task that Leah managed one-handed due to the IV placement.

"Are you okay?" Kate questioned as Leah picked up the phone again.

Leah shook her head. "Yes, no, maybe?" She closed her eyes. "I messed up big time, Kate."

"I gotta go, I can hear them discussing my case outside the door," Leah rushed out.

"I love you, sissy cat, and I'll love any little baby you have." Kate blew her a kiss and hung up the phone.

The doctor entered a few minutes later, wheeling an ultrasound cart in behind him. “Feeling better?” He asked, and Leah nodded. “As best as I can, given the situation.”

A few quiet moments passed between them as he set up the machine and had Leah lie back. The same song and dance as before: feet in the stirrups, the cold probe, warm gel, deep pressure. Leah wanted to make a joke about the French being prickly, about how kind and attentive they had been to her, but she quickly realized that was expected of people in their field.

"Once again, an IUD would be a great choice for you. I just want you to know all your options," Dr. Shah said, glancing up at Leah before turning back to the monitor.

"I know it looks like I'm a dumbass American who came to France for fun and got more than she bargained for," Leah sat up and locked eyes with the doctor, "but I took a Plan B and started birth control and still ended up in this situation."

The nurse placed a reassuring hand on Leah's shoulder. "We don't judge here."

“Mesure environ six semaines et cinq jours,” The doctor spoke to the nurse, who tapped on the tablet, nodding as he continued the exam.

And there it was: the steady beat of a drum, the galloping of horse hooves, the steady ticking of a wristwatch under a pillow. Leah thrummed her fingers along the exam table, keeping time with the rhythm, finding comfort in it as she closed her eyes, immersing herself in it.

The doctor looked up at her, his eyes on her dancing fingers, then back to her face. “Are you sure you want to proceed?”

Taglist:

@weakling-grace

@bibistatic

#maitre vincent renzi #vincent renzi fanfiction #vincent renzi x original female character #anatomy of a fall vincent #vincent renzi #the verdict

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rxqueenotd · 8 months ago

Text

The Verdict- Chapter Eight

Pairing: Vincent Renzi x OFC

Warnings: mentions of vomiting, mentions of suicide, basically summarizing the trial from the movie, allusions to abortion, foul language, sexual content.

A/N: y’all wanted the drama, you’re getting the drama. this chapter was weird for me to write, ngl. thanks to @melancholicmelanin for beta’ing for me last minute. as always, I love your comments and all the anons- they seriously make this worth it. I didn’t intend on taking this fic in this direction at all, but here we go. (And, as always, thanks to @luxlisbons for being on the receiving end of my neuroses)

In the quiet of Vincent’s room, Leah remained in bed for an entire day, shifting only when discomfort set in or when Vincent appeared at the doorway to check on her. At one point, she stirred as the mattress dipped, catching a glimpse of Vincent holding a plate of orange slices and a cup of water. A pang of guilt washed over her, realizing the burden her melancholy was placing on him, invading his space and life. She wondered if he was growing tired of her current state.

"Eat something," Vincent urged, nudging the plate towards her. Reluctantly, she sat up and popped an orange slice into her mouth.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, displaying numerous missed calls from her father and her therapist, but he decided against mentioning it.

"What happened in New York?" he inquired softly.

"Nothing important," she replied, swallowing the orange and taking a sip of water. "I think my friend's kid got me sick."

"Right," he nodded, a hint of doubt flickering in his eyes despite his understanding nod.

He observed in silence as she finished the last orange slice and drained the remaining water.

"We go to trial on Monday," he informed her, to which she nodded.

"I'll be better by then," Leah assured him. "I promise."

Throughout the rest of the week, Leah avoided Vincent, mastering the art of vomiting quietly or simply moving food around on her plate to create the illusion that she had eaten. Frequently dozing off on the couch, she felt anxious around him, harboring a fear that he might possess the same keen perception or foresight that his eccentric mother had displayed. The fear lingered in Leah's mind that Vincent could touch her and instantly know the truth, as if he possessed some uncanny ability to see through her facade with a mere contact.

"You're cold," he observed as he entered the living room where she was engrossed in reading Sandra's case files.

"No, it's actually quite warm in here," she replied as he shook his head.

"No, you're cold, distant," he insisted.

"I've been sick, and the exhausting flight and difficult mediation have left me drained," Leah explained, hoping to deflect his suspicions.

Unconvinced, Vincent pressed on, "Why haven't you been sleeping in bed with me?"

Rather than making up an excuse, She sighed and confronted the underlying issue, "What are we, Vincent? Are we friends, a fling? Where is this relationship headed?"

Vincent looked puzzled, "Where is all this coming from?"

"You once said we have all the time in the world, but do we really?" She questioned.

"That was when you told me I made you whole," He countered.

"Context matters," She pointed out.

"What's the context of this argument, then?" He challenged.

Leah, stubborn as the day is long, shook her head.

“What happened in New York that changed you?” He asked softly.

"How long have we known each other, Vincent?" She asked, already aware of the answer.

"I think just over a month," He replied honestly, “Maybe closer to two?”

"Then how can you say I've changed when you barely know me?" She snapped, looking at him intently, her entire body engaged for a fight she hadn't planned on having.

"How do you know this isn't the real me?" She added, sounding frustrated. "You can't presume to understand who I am."

"All I see is your missed calls, lack of appetite…you won’t let me touch you.” He admitted nervously.

"Do you just want to fuck me, Vincent?" She stood up, hands on her hips, challenging him.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," He replied, standing his ground.

"Let me work in peace and stop analyzing me," She said firmly, returning to her seat on the couch.

Vincent, feeling sheepish, sat on the chaise opposite her, trying to figure out what had gone wrong between them.

______________________________________

"I’m pregnant," Leah spoke quietly into the phone as she poured a cup of tea.

Kate emitted a sound that was a mix of a scream and a gasp on the other end of the call. "I fucking knew it," she said.

"Yeah, well, I don’t know what to do," Leah admitted as she sat at the table with her teacup.

"His mom knows because apparently she’s fucking psychic," Leah continued. "I walked in, and she took one look at me, and she fucking knew."

Kate sighed heavily on the other end. "Does he know?"

"No," Leah said. "I can’t tell him right before the trial and mess with his headspace. I think I've already shaken up his life enough."

"Come home and take care of it," Kate advised. "Quick and simple."

Leah sighed, rubbing her temples. "It’s not that easy. I can’t leave during the case without raising his suspicion. Besides, I barely let him touch me now. I let him eat me out and fuck me yesterday because he cornered me against the kitchen counter, and he said I tasted different. The whole vibe was off after."

"Well, yeah," Kate agreed. "Your whole-body changes when you’re pregnant."

"Now I think he’s convinced I slept with someone else or have someone at home waiting for me, and I’m just bamboozling him," Leah said with a saddened tone.

"I finally climbed into bed with him last night after sleeping on the couch for close to a week, and he immediately rolled over and scooted close to me. His hand found its way to my belly, and it took everything in me not to blurt it out then and there," Leah admitted.

"What?" Kate asked. "That you’re pregnant?"

"No," Leah laughed sardonically. "That I’m in love with him."

Somehow, that revelation shocked Kate more than the news of the pregnancy.

________________________________________

"Are you going to answer that?" Vincent gestured towards Leah's vibrating phone, but she shook her head. They sat together at the kitchen table, poking at bits of scrambled eggs and fresh strawberries on their plates.

"He wants me to come home and join his firm," Leah stated firmly. "I have no desire to work with him or anyone in his firm."

"Your dad is a lawyer?" Vincent inquired, sipping his tea.

"You really don’t know much about me, do you?" Leah asked seriously. "That’s the only thing I inherited from him," she added with a hint of bitterness. "I come from a long line of deceitful, conniving, bald-faced lying lawyers. All on his side."

"And your therapist," Vincent tapped the back of her phone, "You’re not going to answer their calls either?"

"Why would I?" Leah chuckled. "She's just going to tell me to stop messing around with you and go home. Besides, why are you worried about this?" she asked. "I’ve had a therapist since I was sixteen; I'm not going to throw myself from the balcony or anything. I’m just in a slump.”

"I don’t want you to isolate yourself while you're here," Vincent said, offering her a kind smile.

"Well, ignorance is bliss, isn’t it?" Leah half-joked.

Vincent laughed and nodded in agreement.

"You know this trial is going to be tough, right?" he questioned.

"I know," Leah replied, taking a sip of her tea and nodding at him. "This isn't my first rodeo. I'm built for war."

_______________________________________

Leah found the trial fascinating and bizarre, a stark contrast to the sterile courtrooms she was used to back home. The architectural setup, with the judges raised above the room and Sandra seated far away from her own counsel, spoke volumes. The trial itself felt like a free-for-all, and when Vincent walked out in his robes with the frilly collar, Leah had to stifle visible awe and a wave of humor. The awkward moment of listening to Zoë and Sandra’s recorded conversation made Leah's skin crawl. It felt like an invasion of privacy, adding to the overall invasion already present. The recording painted Sandra as a sexual deviant, merely a bisexual woman ready to prey on Zoë. The avocat general, or ‘the bald bastard’ as Leah later dubbed him, tore poor Zoë apart. She held her ground, but he exuded an accusatory nature that even Leah, seated among the gallery, felt.

By some stroke of luck, Vincent had arranged for a translator to feed a translation into an earpiece for Leah. This delayed her reactions, but she noticed Vincent checking on her every few minutes. When Vincent spoke without any objection thrown out, Leah was taken aback. That kind of behavior wouldn’t be tolerated in America, she thought.

“That’s beside the point,” the translator's voice came in Leah’s ear, half a second after Vincent's words, “and sexist.”

Leah felt her stomach drop in the best way as she looked at him. A reality dawned on her—one she had ignored for long over a week, only showing itself in random bouts of nausea and aversion to her longtime perfume—that she was carrying his child. The realization nearly drove her crazy as she watched him lean against the banister, witnessing the same awkward interview she had seen with Daniel unfold in court. The Présidente du tribunal interrogated Daniel, questioning his change of heart regarding the gaffer tape, and Vincent was quick to mention a psychiatrist's observation of shock as a possible reason for his altered memories.

Sandra watched like a hawk as her son was interrogated, and Leah sensed her strong desire to shield him, to envelop him in grace, even from her spot in the vacant spectator’s section. She was permitted to stay there because she was privy to the case's confidential details—a fact that even surprised her. Vincent swiftly intervened, coming to the boy's defense and engaging in a heated argument with the avocat.

From then on, everything blurred. The splatter analyst presented their testimony, offering a hypothesis that faced multiple challenges. The reenactment of the incident, the whole shebang, unfolded before the entire court.

The switch to English at Sandra's request was a welcomed relief for Leah. The speculation about Samuel's suicide attempt and his argument with the therapist felt all too familiar to her. A woman being blamed and scorned for a man's failings— a tale as old as time. Vincent intervened, arguing that the burden was shared by both Samuel and Sandra. However, Leah couldn't focus on his words. All she could see were his eyes, his emotions, the way he expressed himself, his beautiful and unique features.

After court adjourned, Leah joined Sandra and Vincent in the main lobby. The trio walked out together in silence, each grappling with the intensity of the morning. When Vincent suggested driving Sandra home, Leah declined the offer to join, deciding to walk the short distance to Vincent’s apartment to clear her head, feeling too exhausted and overwhelmed by the emotional dynamics at play. In the ensuing hours, she found herself entwined both emotionally and physically in Vincent's bed sheets, until sleep mercifully claimed her.

_________________________________________

In the quiet hours of the morning, Vincent slipped into bed, wrapping his arms around her, drawing comfort from her warmth. She sighed softly from his embrace as he molded himself around her form.

"What did you guys talk about tonight?" her sleepy voice inquired, though her mind had conjured numerous scenarios before she drifted off.

"We talked," Vincent whispered by her ear, "about life, about you, about everything."

"Mhm," Leah mumbled drowsily, "I wanted to punch that bald prosecutor in the throat."

"We didn't discuss the case," Vincent said, planting a kiss on her shoulder blade.

"You talked about me," Leah rolled over, opening her eyes. "Gossipers."

Vincent smiled, his eyes crinkling. "No gossip. I reserve that for my mother."

"You're not being honest," Leah stated matter-of-factly. "You didn't hear her call me a black cat weeks ago, yet you use the same term now. That's not a coincidence. You're a gossip."

"No," he shook his head. "The night you accused me of being with her, I was trying to understand why I feel the way I do about you. I was hoping she would have some advice to make sense of all this.”

"And?" Leah inquired. "What did you conclude?"

"Witchcraft," Vincent chuckled, making Leah laugh. "We didn't reach a conclusion. I just came back to you, and it all fell into place."

"And then you returned home," Vincent began, his words measured, "and you're closed off.”

"This isn't my home, Vincent," Leah corrected him, observing the sadness in his eyes.

"But it could be," he suggested. "You're here, in my bed, in my thoughts, in my heart."

"It's not that easy," Leah replied. "Let's get some rest, okay?"

Vincent's tired eyes silently agreed as she turned away, shutting her eyes tightly to hold back the tears that threatened to fall.

_________________________________________

Seated in the gallery, Leah pressed her palms firmly under her thighs, a wave of sickness washing over her. The sound of Samuel's voice, engaged in a heated argument with Sandra, stirred a deep-seated rage within Leah, aimed at her manipulative and despicable father. The echoes of the fights from her childhood amplified her anger, intensifying it twofold. Glancing at Vincent, his arms crossed and gaze fixed ahead, Leah finally understood why he had kept the file from her until now. The conversation, particularly about language and speaking English as a middle ground, painted a picture of confusion and struggles for their potential future children, such as the one Leah secretly carried, under the shadow of their distinctly American mother.

Resentment. Manipulation.

Those were the only words Leah registered.

The realization terrified her, sending shivers down her spine. As she and Vincent locked eyes, she sensed that he comprehended the turmoil swirling in her mind. With a trembling hand, she reached to her right and clasped Daniel's hand, feeling his tremors mirroring her own. From that moment on, Leah tuned out everything else, focusing solely on the boy beside her, a reflection of her own struggles and fears.

_______________________________________

In the days that followed, social media buzzed with chatter about Sandra, while Leah and Vincent lingered in Paris, Sandra and Daniel retreated to their chalet.

As the court session resumed two days later, Daniel's testimony was set to unfold in an empty gallery, and Leah opted to wait outside the chamber, avoiding the potentially twisted details that Samuel Maleski might have implanted in the young boy's mind. While Sandra was far from perfect, Samuel's darker side seemed doubly sinister and oblivious. Sandra, on the other hand, acknowledged her imperfections as a mother, a woman, and a human being—a trait that Leah found admirable.

As the chamber doors finally swung open, Vincent's reassuring smile conveyed all Leah needed to know. They hailed a car and squeezed in, with Sandra phoning to check on Daniel, who graciously approved of her belated dinner at a nearby Chinese restaurant. In the back seat, Vincent kept a watchful eye on Leah, who observed their surroundings as the car navigated the streets, eventually arriving at the restaurant.

“That’s the first fucking time in our life we win!” Vincent proclaimed amidst laughter at the table, responding to Sandra's inquiry about their celebratory customs. A waitress arrived with more sushi and a round of sake, which Leah politely declined, opting for a simple bowl of rice and water.

When Leah's phone rang, she excused herself and stepped outside, where she found Nour and a few other colleagues enjoying a smoke break.

"Evan proposed," Kate's voice crackled through the earpiece.

"Congratulations... I think?" Leah chuckled.

"I turned him down, as I always do," Kate replied matter-of-factly.

"Maybe next time," Leah teased.

However, as she glanced back through the window, her stomach churned at the scene unfolding inside—Vincent's hand lightly tracing Sandra's cheekbone, drawing her close into his embrace, where he ran his fingers through her hair. Sandra reciprocated, tenderly touching his face as they gazed into each other's eyes.

Leah abruptly ended the call with Kate and stood frozen, her gaze fixed through the glass. Catching Vincent's eye, he swiftly rose from his seat, Leah’s strides purposeful and swift as she made her way down the uneven sidewalk, tapping away on her phone to order an Uber. With the car mere moments away, she breathed a sigh of relief. Eventually, Vincent caught up to her just as she was about to step into the waiting car.

"Leah—," he began, but she cut him off with a dismissive hand gesture.

"Don't. You can fucking have her," she retorted sharply.

Slamming the car door shut, she drove off without a backward glance.

Taglist:

@weakling-grace

@bibistatic

#vincent renzi fanfiction #vincent renzi x original female character #maitre vincent renzi #anatomy of a fall vincent #vincent renzi #the verdict

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